A and Hanna
by JacobB1996
Summary: is a completed original series wherein Hanna's mental condition begins to deteriorate after she discovers who A is while she's in the hospital.
1. One

A is Lucas.

Betrayals come in the littlest of packages. The object is to identify the package before becoming too involved with its contents.

Unfortunately, however, Hanna failed that exam, and, instead of failing a class or whatever, she'd endangered not only her life, but the lives of her family members and friends.

Indeed, she was not prepared when he broke in her house, when her virginity was so horribly taken from her in the absolute worst of methodologies, or even when her beloved sanity was so crudely taken from her. If she would've seen it coming, had she been more careful and less endearing to those around her, and less insecure about herself, she might not have ended up where she is now - shackled to a hospital bed and sedated, with little to no memory of herself or others.

But she didn't possess logic - at least not after her mother, Ashley, slipped into a coma and died after being run over by a drunk driver. She'd always doubted others actions, but her mother's last words were to "trust everyone," and "never doubt the significance of others lives." That's all the advice she kept. She didn't listen to her ex-boyfriend, Caleb, when he told her that being too overly permissive is very dangerous in and of itself, just like she hadn't listened to her father when he said his ex wife's death was not an accident, that it was planned, that it's the result of something she was keeping for a long time.

Oh how she wishes she would have listened to others. Oh how she wishes. "Hanna," the voice came through the darkness her eyes had been continually afflicting her with for as long as she can definitely remember. It sounded horribly, even strangely familiar - as if she'd talked to this person before; almost as if this person kept visiting her nonstop ever since she was admitted to the hospital. No, she told herself; don't let your mind wander. Your mother, Ashley, wouldn't appreciate your thought processes. In fact, she considered, your mother would disown you for not adhering by her advice. But she still can't shake off the notion that this voice sounds oddly, even eerily familiar, as if she'd met this person before and knew him all to well. The individual bent down and puckered his lips, culminating with a kiss on her forehead. It felt so familiar. Who was it? Her body was aching so much, so constantly, so persistently to know that her eyes burst open that instant.

And it was Caleb. His smile was gracious. "Hanna, I love you; please forgive me, but I had to do it." His smile begun to falter as he saw Hanna's odd look of disapproval. He begun to cry, to sob, to plead for mercy, but Hanna did not feel like lending him forgiveness. There was room for anything but her violator. Anything. Lucas may have been bad, he may have been horrible and hard to tolerate after what he had done to her house while he broke in, but Caleb is a thousand times worse. He's the one that actually dislodged Hanna's pants and undergarments and stuck his genital inside hers. Lucas had no part of it - at least as far as Hanna knows. It was only Caleb, the individual whom she had invested so much explicit trust in, whom she had invested her affection within, that betrayed her trust and left her confidence and willpower to inanimate shreds.

"Don't speak a word," Hanna opened her mouth to verbalize her disgrace. All that time while in the hospital she could not think of anything but Caleb's look of pleasure as he continued to plunge himself inside her inflamed genital. Nothing else, no matter how much Hanna strove to, could not pierce her thoughts. It was quite emotionally horrid of her to have to think of that for two months. Caleb could have visited long before this. Why didn't he? What was he so afraid of? What was he attempting to avoid? It's your confidence again, Hanna attempted to inform herself in Ashley's maternal voice, only picturing her before her death holding and grasping and clutching her hands, voicing her very last words before croaking, biting the dust, or whatever you want to call it. Those pleading eyes pierced her skull so many times, made her feel unending guilt, that now it's just second nature to her; and frankly, it's exciting to have something else on her mind other than the act of betrayal Caleb had inflicted on her over a month ago.

"W-Why?" Caleb struggled to voice his inquiry.

"Because," Hanna explained. It took a lot not to lunge at him and do what he had done to her. Guess being in a hospital for so long is beneficial, eh? At least you get to be less defensive and more agreeable to others notions. Maybe that's why so many people are murdered in the hospital. They're so vulnerable. They're at the lowest point of their lives. They'd agree to just about anything. Perhaps that's what happened to her mother? No, no; don't think that way, Hanna told herself. Ashley died naturally. That drunk driver didn't have a plan. He was inebriated. He couldn't have had a plan. Or could he have? While driving down that road, inebriated, out of his mind, could he have swerved and purposefully hit Ashley? Was the infringement intended for Hanna? Or, even worse, Hanna thought with a mortified expression buried within her visible expression, was the infringement intended for poor young Caleb? That's scary, Hanna told herself; why would he want to do that? Why? Why exactly would a drunk driver hit someone he (or she) didn't even know? And besides, the drunk driver wasn't even of american nationality - he was Italian. Although he was never imprisoned for his mistakes due to Rosewood leniency, Hanna hopes he learned his lesson, and, at the same time, she knows herself, from matters of experience, that human beings never, ever, no matter what, for no reason, learn from their mistakes. Humans are born into sin. You can be forgiven, but you can never be spotless, no matter if you are forgiven. In other words, humans impulsively commit sin, just as they impulsively do what is wrong for their own benefits. Whole reason for mob activity, partial reason for the morbidity Caleb had inflicted upon her long ago.

"If you so much as open your mouth to speak," Hanna proceeded to muster up as much undulated anger as she could; her eyes looked angry, seasoned with no repression, absolutely no suppression, and anything but forgiveness and leniency. She will be stringent. Caleb had raped her. There's nothing else to it. He violated a boundary he knew he could not stride into. He stuck his penis inside her unwilling vagina. If that's not enough for him to know not to speak to her, she does not, no matter what, for any reason, know what could be. Caleb's logical, isn't he? Then he should leave - now - before Hanna loses her anger further and actually goes through with her intents and kills Caleb.

"And Caleb," Hanna continued. Caleb immediately turned around. He had obviously hoped that for any or whatever reason that Hanna had forgiven him. But she had not. He knew this. But it was just wishful thinking. After all, what can be done about such thought processes? Nobody forbade him from wishful thinking. "don't bother coming back."

Caleb suppressed his tears, looked ahead of him, everything in slow motion, and got into the elevator. Hanna looked straight at Caleb and spat at him. She, too, suppressed the tears, for everything went so fast.

Not only does she have no real parental figure to govern her, but she had also broken up with her boyfriend; and her friends, well, they haven't talked to her since right after she had been rushed to the hospital.

It was a cold stormy night when Aria had done something horrible, something possibly worse than what Lucas had committed, you see, for she had willingly assumed the role of a double agent. Everything her friends told her, no matter how damaging it had the potential to be, it always got back to A, even when Lucas was talking to them. Basically everyone but Hanna approved of Aria's actions. Hanna felt insecure with everything that occurred, so she wasn't ready to forgive anyone or anything.

So, in other words, Hanna deduced, there was nothing to live for. Hanna reached for her neck with both hands, ready to commit the horrible. She prepared herself. Perhaps she'd meet Ashley? Perhaps she'd oversee life and laugh cynically at the various occurrences thereof? Maybe, but the only thing she had on her mind was the morbidity of suicidal tendencies.

"Don't do that!" A voice came ringing through the hospital room. "Don't! Please!" The voice clattered through the room. It continued to irritate her conscience.

The voice sounded ominously like her father. And it was, Hanna informed herself as she opened her eyes; not only that, but he was standing aside Isabel, her stepmother, whom she despises with all that remained of her anger.

"Why not?" Hanna pleaded. "I have nothing to live for!" The tears glistened as they slithered down her beautiful cheek.

"You have everything to live for!" Her father urged. "Everything!"

"What do I have to live for? My boyfriend, who raped and later left me?" Hanna sighed. "My mother, who died over a month ago?" Hanna continued to sigh. "Or perhaps Lucas, who now hates me?"

"You have us." Her father continued. "And we," Her father paused and looked momentarily at Isabel with a pleading expression on her face. "aren't going away anytime soon."


	2. Two

"Caleb raped me, dad," Hanna looked deep into her father's eyes. The rape incident itself went through her mind all in a second. It rippled like a cumulative storyboard, the expressions of pain and anger coming and going like that. "and you're not going to do anything about it?" Hanna's previous smile of hope, of wishful thinking, of eternal pain finally going away quickly withered away and devolved into tears of self pity. "He raped me, dad; he raped me!" Hanna shouted. She felt like shouting even louder, but deep down inside she did not want to attract attention.

With all that had been going on, Hanna justified, adding pitiful attention would only increase her emotional outbursts.

As if reading her mind, Tom crinkled his forehead in intrigue. "How?" He asked stupidly, as if he had not completed sex ed just yet.

"Shut up, Dad," Hanna smirked for the first time in her life, despite how disgusted she felt at her father's unlawful intrigue at exactly how Caleb had raped her that one fateful night.

"No, seriously, Hanna; I want to know how he raped you." Tom urged her to explain how exactly she was raped. Well, Dad, Hanna told herself, if you really want to know, it wasn't truly rape - but it was at the wrong time at the wrong place under the wrong circumstances. He didn't want intercourse for the right reasons. He wanted to seal the deal with me and that's all there is to it. It wasn't rape, Hanna admitted to herself, the tears beginning to pool under her eyes; it wasn't rape, and what you did to Caleb was emotional rape, and that's all there is to it.

Hanna suddenly burst into unexpected tears. This time she had asked for the attention. Sporadic nurses pooled through the room and turned to Tom. "Is she okay?" One nurse with red hair asked. "I heard her crying." The nurse suddenly squinted her eyes, and continued to further her approach. "Did you hurt her?"

"No, no; I promise," Tom backed away, his hands instinctively placed in front of him, his eyes quite instinctively bulging. "I did not hurt her. Please, believe me; please!" Tom begged and pleaded for the nurse's consideration but it seemed as if there was none left. Indeed, the nurse thought, for whatever reason, that a father hurt his own son, even though there was no proof to support that accusation. Unlawful accusations happen all the time, Tom told himself; just he never thought that would actually happen to him - until now.

"You're going with me," the nurse insisted, grabbing Tom's hand and escorting him out of the room.

The other nurse quickly swerved her vision to the monitor aside Hanna's. "I think she's coding!" The nurse screeched. Another nurse swerved their attention as well, until all nurse's attentions were on her.

"What happened?" The nurse could hear another nurse asked. Never in her career had this happened. But there's a first for everything. Perhaps this could enrich her career, she told herself, attempting to convince herself that she is not doing any wrong by helping a person in pain.

"I think she's coding!" The nurse repeated, everything seemingly flowing slowly, as if she had been submerged in a freaky medical drama all along.

"Oh my god," the nurse screamed, her eyes bulging, everything seeming shocking to her. If this patient dies, she told herself, perhaps selfishly, then she'd lose her job! That can't happen! Not under her watch!

The nurse ran swiftly to Hanna, even though she was only located across the room. "I'll save you!" She shouted determinedly. "Don't worry! I'll save you!" She repeated, convincing more herself than the actual patient. She pressed down on Hanna's chest, reenacting her CPR practices. They weren't practices, she told herself; they were actual patients, but everybody after this incident would be major, everybody before would be practicing for the one major incident that would transform her medical career, and ultimately enrich her experiences.

Hanna suddenly opened her eyes. During the time her eyelids were closed, she was not dead, or, for that matter, even close to dead.

She was reenacting what had happened two months ago - when Lucas had broken into her house and when Caleb had sexually violated her. It wasn't stormy. It wasn't light out; it was darker than the night sky. Everything was ominous, as if something game-changing WAS destined to happen. Foreshadowing, Hanna told herself; if only you had heeded its inanimate warning signs, she put herself down, despite how the deceased figure of her mother urged her not to.

Lucas had been posing as A and harassing the four girls for months beforehand. The first to find out, however, was Hanna. She was visiting Lucas's house and saw his cell phone while he was in the shower. Frightened, and stuttering, as if he could see through walls, Lucas shouted for her to set his cell the hell down; however, Hanna disobeyed this, and got the shock of her life when she saw messages addressed to her and her friends, with the signature "-A." This shocked her so much she audibly gasped and immediately left the house, forgetting that her jacket was inside his house. Her keys just happened to be in there too. Lucas found the jacket a few hours later, and inside it the keys as well, so he approached Hanna in front of her house and gave her her jacket and her keys. Upon being asked about what she saw, however, Hanna lied and said it was a picture of a naked lady. Lucas then smiled and proceeded to flirt with Hanna and say that he was kind of a porno junkie. When Hanna told Spencer, however, she was disbelieving of it, so she withdrew herself from Hanna. Same happened with Emily, and same happened with Aria. Part of the reason why they were disbelieving was because Hanna had developed a lying tendency over the months following a major event.

It was only a week or two later that Lucas had grew angrier and angrier - partly because "A" had been asking him to do more and more things to harass more and more people at more and more times for more and more reasons - and broke into Hanna's house, only adhering to what "A" told him to do. If he had not adhered to "A"'s command, Lucas might not of saw his family any longer, for "A" would have gained forceful admission to his house and broke in and kidnapped and presumably killed his family; which is not something Lucas would want no matter what.

At the same time, Caleb was growing more and more frustrated with his relationship with Hanna. They had been together for more than a few months and he had not engaged in sexual intercourse with her. At first Caleb thought Hanna was cheating on her, but he soon found out it was something darker, which inadvertently lead him to cultivate a rivalry with Lucas, who he had suspected for many things, among which was stalking Hanna. Lucas had threatened to kill Caleb.

That night many things occurred - among them was Ashley Marin's death, Hanna Marin's rape, and the Marin's break in - but nobody knew how it happened, or for what reason it occurred. Nobody except Hanna, you see, because she was home alone with her boyfriend. She had finally grown more and more confident about herself and was just readying herself for sexual intercourse before Lucas broke in. At the noise of the break in Hanna jolted up, felt a little pleasured, and begged for Caleb to allow her to exit the room to see who broke in; but Caleb was intent on having sex. Hanna wanted to have sex, she truly did, but it was not at the right time. It really wasn't under the right circumstances either. Sex should happen naturally not forcefully. Caleb wanted sex so Hanna gave it. That's not how it should be. It should be a mutual occurrence, not something brought on by force and disharmony. Perhaps this is why Hanna did not want to pervade the act of sexual intercourse with any living human being - because sex begun as evocation of pregnancy and child birth, not as a way for people to express their love to each other. Love used to be expressed by gift cards, kisses, even hugs, not how it is used now. Sex has become so... mainstream for couples that Hanna truly wants to prevent herself from pervading the act at all. She doesn't want to have sex. She wants to stay a virgin all her life. Just like all those idols she looked up to. Guess that makes her an abnormal teenager.

Everything makes her abnormal though. Hanna isn't a normal teenager - and she readily admits this - but she'd like to think she could survive in a wilderness where only teens governed. Ashley, her very protective and extremely responsible mother, always taught her that it is nobody's fault for ones own actions; that whatever happens is because of her. It wasn't meant to be demeaning, however, because Hanna never saw Ashley as abusive. Until the day when she threw a beer bottle at her inebriated husband, who had come home and tried to sexually violate her daughter AND her wife. That day, her father, Tom had left, and didn't look back until years later when he remarried a lady named Isabel, whom, to quote him, "was a pristine young lady," and "never hindered her hubby's actions." When Hanna attempted to hinder her father's own remarriage, Tom responded with mutinous anger, asserting that her mother was the woman to blame for this travesty, not his newly found wife, whom, he asserted, "loved him to the ends of the earth, unlike my previous wife." He said this with a tenacious smile on his face, as if he had finally enacted a very dark, comically insane animation of his plan of revenge or something. Hanna never picked up on it until Tom had visited her in the hospital less than a day or two ago. His face as he looked pleadingly at Isabel - was that to subtly convince her that this is doing the right thing, despite what emotional damage they, as a vengeful team, may have afflicted on her years ago before they left and scurried to another town to consummate their own marriage, birth another child named Eric, and then not even return to Rosewood to reintroduce himself and Isabel as the proud new parents of a newly birthed child?

"Please, I did not do a thing to her; I promise," Hanna opened her eyes and her ears must not have been adjusted to the atmosphere around her, for the first thing she heard, aside from the beeping of her own medical equipment, was her father, Tom, without the assistance of his wife, Isabel, begging and pleading and wrenching for his own freedom - something Hanna never, in a million years, for any reason whatsoever, thought her father would do, you see, because she thought, she predicated even that her father held a endless grudge against her, and that there'd be nothing to lift that grudge against her and place it in imaginary yet so wholly realistic extermination centers. But, apparently, as both her eyes and ears can sense, that her father had indeed lifted the grudge against her; that, despite what she had convinced herself regarding, that her father, Tom, did, after all, forgive her. Hanna couldn't help but to smile. Finally! Finally, someone liked her! Finally, someone forgave her for her actions! Finally, someone forbade her from feeling nonsensical about herself.

As if sensing her split-second emotion, Tom turned around like a hawk spying on its nest - and indeed it was a hawk, for Tom ran, even lunged himself to Hanna. Except this was not a lunge of love; it was a lunge of disapproval, of anger, of thirst. Had he gone insane because of Hanna's affliction - or was she misinterpreting her father's actions, once again?

No... no, Hanna told herself, as Tom continued to swiftly smack his own daughter across the head, finally relenting just to turn around and look at the inanimate hospital staff out in the hallway, still looking intently, even curiously, however insanely at Tom, as if he was a spectral to gaze at endlessly, a motionless spectator gazing endlessly at a wounded zoo animal that had become continually afflicted by its owners physical torment and the rendered physical afflictions thereof.

The zoo animal was Hanna. The owner was Tom. The spectators, needless to say, as Hanna could see every second she had been continually afflicted by her father, WAS indeed the hospital staff. Hanna squinted. She felt herself scream and squabble against the opposing force in front of her. Finally, she had grown brave! Finally, she had accumulated SOME type of courage, even if it WAS, indeed, "girl power," as Tom would consider it.

"Shut the fuck up, you wounded animal;" Hanna hadn't felt herself saying this - she saw herself from the corner of her own hospital room, struggling against the wholly confrontational force of her own father. She begun to sissy fight; but, instead of a sissy slap, it was - quite surprisingly, shall Hanna assert - a man slap. Apparently, Tom trying to pull Hanna out from under the covers to presumably afflict more damage on her had done more to her than she expected. Perhaps it was human nature. When one is angered too much, too frequently, especially by a loved human being, it brings the absolute worst, even murderous side out of anyone. Hanna's not the exception, she thought as she finally accumulated enough physical and animate force to shove her fathers body against the hard, glassy, barely visible ground below her and immediately beside her hospital bed. The blood continually gushed out of Tom's head. Hanna chuckled; the nurses and hospital staff don't respond until something has been done to disturb the sanity of the complexity of silence.

Hanna looked up at the staff right outside her door about to come in and squinted. "What are you doing here?" She finally managed to articulate. It wasn't a full verbalization, though, for the voice barely made its way out of her voice-box, and when it did come out of her voice box, the staff didn't even notice it, continuing along their merry own way, looking at the receptionist and pointing directly at Hanna. She smiled. "What's wrong?" She attempted to purvey her verbalization, but it was futile, especially when she looked back at the figure she had previously seen at the side of her bed... and, instead of a dead, now inanimate figure, she saw nothing but a small pool of blood. Hanna felt a odd sensation. It wasn't of pain, of sorrow, or even of tension; it was of relief, for she had not killed her father - in fact, Hanna smiled at the mental realization, and chuckled once it played through her mind like a swift storyboard, she hadn't killed anyone at all! Perhaps it was all a dream! Hanna kicked herself for even considering this, but Hanna's mother, Ashley considered this as a very possible spectral, for she had quickly appeared before her bed and asserted the acquisition that Hanna only dreamed being admitted to the hospital - that her mother's death, that the whole deal with her father, even that the whole deal with her boyfriend raping her... was all a dream. Denial, her father's dead figure suddenly appeared before her in spiritual form. "You can't be here," Hanna managed to fully articulate THIS verbalization, just no other, even to save her life, would articulate itself.

"Yes, I can; I am your father, but you are not my daughter;" the figure teasingly spoke as his lips curdled into a smile - a creepy smile, that is, that articulated that even she, an innocent sixteen year old, was not safe inside a hospital. "This could be a drug induced hallucination," the figure slid over beside Hanna. She closed her eyes for a moment, only to be met with the cold embrace of her hallucination's hands. "I'll strangle you, you little bitch; I swear!" Hanna's eyes bulged in anxious panic.

"No, no; please!" Hanna spoke. It was all futile, she told herself; you're on your death bed, that's all there is to it, both her mother and father, and even the spirit of her alive and well boyfriend, Caleb, had convincingly spoke the condemnation she was currently experiencing.

"Don't speak!" The figure slammed and slammed Hanna's head against the pillow. She felt herself struggling. She felt everything twirling around. Had this been a dream? She told herself in a swift panic of distorted inhumanity. Then, suddenly, as fast as he had arrived, the figure slid out of the room as her father, Tom, who was the real him, had appeared in the room.

"Are you okay, Hanna?" Tom asked, his forehead crinkling in intrigue. Apparently this was all a dream, she told herself; perhaps your hospitalization is to, her deceased mother attempted to purvey, but Hanna had just swatted the invisible atmospheric appearance that had brought upon this ideal purveyance.

"She was experiencing an extreme hallucination," The nurse pulled Tom aside to explain what had happened to his daughter. "This may be the last time you'll see your daughter," The nurse opened her mouth to continue, but Tom slamming his strengthened hand against the wall had prevented this from occurring.

"Just..." Tom held his hand in front of the nurse. "Don't. I know. She'll be dead by midnight. This happened to my mother, you know," Tom noticed the nurse's look of disapproval and condemning fury. "and it happened at a negligent hospital as well;" Tom's eyes squinted in determined fury. "so, if you don't want me to evoke a lawsuit against this hospital in death induced fury," Tom punched the wall once more. "don't enrage me."

"There are programs for you to assess your determination and fury, you know..." The nurse trailed, noticing Tom's red eyes. Suddenly, she backed.

"I swear to god, Mona," Tom spoke. The nurse's name was Mona! Hanna told herself. She suddenly smiled in her bed and let out a bursting chuckle. Both Tom and the nurse looked at Mona. "I'm trying to save you, bitch; if there's something funny, I can just allow you to bite the damn dust!" Tom offered, clearly threatening his own daughter.

"Do I need to call CPS?" Another voice came from the door. Apparently someone had overheard this heated discussion and enacted what they considered a responsible consideration.

"Call em!" Tom dared, his hands mockingly in the air. "I fucking dare you to, Alison!" Tom furthered. "I dare you!" He squinted his eyes. The figure couldn't help but notice Tom's glaring red eyes just glared a little more.

Mona, the nurse he was previously discussing accusations with, tried to wrench herself from behind Tom's back - but Tom prevented it by pushing her a little backward, hindering her progress. Tom walked forward and forward and forward until he had approached Alison. The whispers of which they were purveying through her unreadable from Hanna's viewpoint so she hadn't attempted to assess them. Instead, she had looked at the wall beside her, avoiding the spectral of having to view Mona, the person whom she supposed was attempting to murder her, possibly plotting, right now, this second, how to murder her. Perhaps by strangling? Hanna joked; or perhaps by tension?

Suddenly, as fast as they had arrived, Hanna's darkness and fury had departed, leaving behind only her father, Tom, who was continuing to crinkle his forehead - perhaps in disgust, perhaps in intrigue - at the figure of his own daughter restrained against a hospital bed.

"I'm so sorry, Hanna, but I have bad news;" Tom introduced his testimony. Hanna jumped to conclusions and thought it was her own death announcement she was (unwittingly) experiencing.

But it was not. Indeed it was not.

"Your mother," Tom paused. "might still be alive." He took a deep breath. "You see, Hanna," he continued. "when the inebriated driver ran her over, she was distracted by something - I don't know what - and people, people who had jumped to conclusions," Tom excused, placing his hands against his sweaty temple. Apparently he had been so sad, so distraught, so grief stricken that he had to pause between testimonials. Or was she hallucinating this as well? This brings her back to her earlier hypotheses about patients and their vulnerabilities and subsequent easiness.

"Hanna, please," Tom finally raised his head; and, for a moment, it looked evil, but Hanna pinched herself and immediately ventured her way out of her unexpected hallucination. "this isn't very easy for me either, so, please, just bear with me."

"I thought she was dead." Hanna spoke, expressing exactly how she felt. For the very first time in her life, she felt close, even connected to her own father, Tom, who had attempted to rape her when she was younger, who was nothing but a filthy, inebriated asshole when he was married to her mother, Ashley, who never once agreed with their relationship but only succumbed to it to stop Tom from enacting more pain and misery upon her. And the pain - oh, the misery - she could hear it through the walls. It sounded like a murder, but she knew it was not, for the next morning, smiling as usual, Ashley was cooking eggs to deliver for breakfast. She always made good food. Perhaps that was ONE of the reasons why Tom married her - except, of course, the fact that she, even though she did not agree with it, delivered wonderful, exquisite, even endearingly miserable sexual intercourse, whether it was in the form of giving or receiving. Maybe that was why she was kind to everyone else, Hanna told herself - she didn't want to disappoint her husband, whom she knew knew her darkest, most miserable secrets; and would surely use them against her during the act of intercourse.

"I thought she was dead," Hanna repeated. "And I thought you'd never love me!" Hanna suddenly reached aside her to hug her own father, Tom, whom she knew, or at least considered, that would never love her. But, even in the worst of conditions, family members who previously condemn or despise you would come to your aid. Of course, Hanna told herself, suddenly withdrawing from her father's loving embrace; he doesn't want her, Hanna told herself, she just wants my love! He'll fucking use me again!

"You're going to use me again, aren't you?" Hanna asked just what she was thinking, despite the fact she knows that no such verbalization ever turns out well.

"When did I ever use you, honey?" Hanna could tell her father's inanimate smile was staged; that he had prepared for this occasion before hand.

"You prepared for this didn't you," Hanna squinted her eyes as she inquired such. "Answer me!" Hanna screamed. "Or I will kill you!" Hanna lifted an imaginary dagger.

"Well, yeah," Tom excused. "I didn't know how you'd react."

"Get out." Hanna commanded, pointing to the door. Tom hesitated. "Get the fuck out you dirty bastard! Go get drunk and slap your wife!"

"She died." Tom revealed. Hanna suddenly cried. She hadn't loved, or even liked Isabel; however, not feeling sad for a death wasn't her thing. If Lucas or Caleb died, for example, or even if Tom died, for a secondary example, despite how much she endlessly and exquisitely hates and despises their guts and wished she had the chance to plunge a knife deep in their respective groins, none of that means she'd want them to die naturally.

"But I wanted to," Hanna caught herself before she verbalized the very last word, which would have been "kill."

"You wanted to what?" Tom's eyes glared red suddenly.

"Kill her, of course," Hanna smiled. She grinned and laughed. "but that act's already been completed, eh?" Hanna chuckled, smacking her leg as if it was an actual humorous assertion.

"What do you mean?"

"I hate her, dad," Hanna shook her head, as if Tom were supposed to know this; almost as if he had to study to memorize her daughter's personalities. "you know that," Hanna continued, grinning, and suddenly making her eyes look devilishly evil. "right?" Her eyes glinted red. "Right?" She repeated; her voice suddenly turning a bit villainous.

"I'm leaving." Tom excused. He got up. "And, Hanna," she turned around. Hanna directed her attention to Tom. "if you say anything about Isabel, I will disown you." He warned.

"Do it," Hanna dared. "you're dirt poor anyway."

"How?" Tom exploded into unmediated anger. "I love you, Hanna; you know that, and so does Isabel. If you don't get along with her," Tom sighed, glancing at the ground, clearly attempting to mediate his own anger. "work it out yourself, but DO NOT, EVER, say you want to kill her." Tom added. "That, in and of itself, is reason of itself to disown you."

Before Hanna could further her acquisitions, Tom had left the room, purposefully slamming the door behind him.

"Fuck," Hanna sighed. She felt herself crying for the first time. "I messed up, I truly did," she told herself.

"Well, that obviously means you must apologize." Hanna heard a voice from across the room. It sounded like her mother.

"Yeah, what she said," Another voice rung; this one sounded like Caleb.

"No, no need to apologize; you were worthless to begin with, and of no worth you will remain," cryptically voiced yet another voice.

Hanna cried.

She felt distressed.

What should she do?


	3. Three

Hanna decided.

She was going to make it seem like she killed Isabel - make it seem like she completed the task all so seem to strive for. If the villain is slayed by the hero, Hanna asked herself, wealth is always procured, isn't it? When was there ever a fairy tale where the hero didn't reap the rewards of killing the villain?

"You're not a fairy," came a voice from beside her. It once again resembled that of her father. But it did not look like him. Perhaps she wasn't under the influence of drugs anymore, Hanna told herself. "and you're not of worth, so please stop making it sound like you're reaping any type of reward."

"Shut the fuck up, Dad; you have no say in what I do!" Hanna struck the figure only visible to her with such malicious force that she was actually tapped on the back.

Hanna turned her head and saw her father, the one visible to all.

"Are you talking back to me, Hanna?" He asked with his eyes squinted. Hanna turned her head and contemplated for a moment what to say. Should she be nice to her Dad? The figure only visible to her told her no; the figure to the other side of her, appearing aside Tom, told her to be nice to her father, since she wants to get on his good side so she could get in his will easier. Why does everything have to be malicious around here? Hanna rather convincingly asked herself. Why? She persisted. She begun crying tears of pain, of sorrow, of disenchantment with the malice of life.

"Hanna, if you won't speak, I am leaving," Tom turned around and walked to the door.

"Wait!" Hanna demanded. "Please," she begged. "I think I'm going crazy."

Tom looked rather concernedly at Hanna. His eyes squinted in pain, sorrow and disenchantment as well. Like father, like daughter, Hanna told herself; perhaps her malice, her evilness comes from Tom. But what, oh what, does she inherit from her mother? She asked herself.

"Well, I can't help you if you don't speak up, honey;" Tom sighed and stared into space before looking interestingly at Hanna. "So what symptoms have you been experiencing?"

Hanna looked beside her. The figure only visible to her shook his head no, disapprovingly, as if he did not want her to reveal what she had been experiencing. "No, I'm disobeying you," Hanna spoke to the figure beside her, and turned to the other figure, of which is her mother. "And, as for you, Ashley, you're a worthless bitch."

She paused afterwards and looked at her dad, tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry;" she denoted between tears. "Dad, I'm sorry;" she begged, noticing her father getting up and leaving. "I'm sorry, please, don't leave me."

"I know what you think you're doing is right for yourself," Tom turned around once close to the door, mimicking Hanna's insanity. "but I don't want to hear or witness your coping mechanisms, Hanna," He stepped forward. "and if you say a word about anything that occurred today, even my appearance," He thought for a second. "then you can kiss your damn money goodbye, because you will be removed from my last will and testament." Tom's eyes looked serious - as if he was confronting an enemy who had been continually invading his bordered territory.

* * *

Lucas picked up the keys beside the entrance to his house and sighed. He looked behind him, smelling the freshness of the atmosphere around him, sensing something peculiar.

Why did Mona have to make him do this? He hadn't committed a sin or crime in the eyes of the police.

The only questionable action he ever committed was cutting his ties with Mona - and even then that was not very confusing to examine or analyse, you see, because it was the logical thing to do since Mona was going to exterminate Lucas had she found out she was pregnant from her first sexual encounter with a nerd.

Had his life been worthy before his relationship with Mona? Perhaps Lucas could identify the answer to this, but right then Mona appeared seemingly out of nowhere. "Fuck you, Lucas; fuck you!" She screeched, grunting as she slammed her foot against the ground. Lucas looked on in utter confusion. How did she appear out of nowhere? What happened from the time he got his keys to the time he turned around, to now? Had something seemingly pivotal occurred? As if sensing what was going on in his mind, Mona crossed her arms and looked at the walls disobediently. She's a normal teenager, Lucas told himself; she's a normal teenager, which means she's forgiving. "I'm not going to forgive you." Mona confirmed Lucas's innermost suspicions.

"For what?" Lucas spoke before he could assess. It's very habitual for him to do this. Had he cleaned up this habit, he wouldn't of texted the women he so dearly loved and cherished, just to continually blackmail them about their secrets he knew to begin with from his escapades.

"You know damn well what I'm talking about, Lucas," she spoke to him with such utter fury that her smirk was not evident afterwards, which leads Lucas to believe his ex girlfriend is being somehow shining her malignancy even more than before.

"No, Mona, I do not," he turned around and held the doorknob. He wanted to leave, he knew that for sure, just like he wanted to leave Mona for so damn long. Oh how gracious it was to finally leave her; oh how gracious. "and if you'll excuse me, I have to go visit Hanna in the hospital."

"You know what visiting her will do to me." Mona teased.

"What will it do to you?" Lucas furthered.

If she's trying to use manipulation to her advantage like she always does, then Lucas is too brave, too courageous, even too reserved to want to succumb to such futility anymore. Besides, he told himself, if he were to talk to Mona - even to speak reason with her - he'd be betraying not only Hanna's trust, but he'd also be wrecking his own life. Mona would not only be succeeding in weaseling her way into Lucas's life further and further, but he'd also be clenched at the throat with the intensity of Mona's leash.

"Fine, Mona; if you won't respond, if you won't take the time to reason with me, then I am leaving." Lucas turned around and opened the door, ignoring Mona's moans and complaints, even her tears and sobs, even her physical outrage and presumptuous fit.

The intensity of Mona's scream of morbid displeasure and humiliating depression could be heard blocks away, even cities away - just as the intensity of Lucas's screams of fury and humiliation could be heard countries and countries away. "Shut the fuck up, Mona, okay?!" Lucas screamed out his window before slamming his foot on the gas pedal and getting the hell out of this place. Visiting the hospital is what needs to be done, Lucas told himself; perhaps, he considered, Hanna would be more considerate. Perhaps.

* * *

"What do I do?" Hanna was talking to her significant, yet imaginary others again, just like she had been doing hours ago and for hours on end. She was immersed in indecision and when she is undecided on something she really can't help but to ponder her various choices by way of her imaginary beings. They had very good inhibitions, Hanna told herself. Perhaps that's because they are created by the captor.

Hanna felt the tears whisk down her cheeks, the awestruck terror coursing through her veins as every second rowed by. She felt like she was immersed in a terrifying flood. There was no hope for her, just like there was no help for others.

If there was any hope, she told herself, then she had not found it, and if she did, she's afraid she wouldn't even recognize it. Success isn't a diamond in the rough - it's a needle in a haystack. You have to submerge yourself in pines and pines of hay to get to the diamond, just like you have to submerge yourself in pines and pines of failure and setbacks and push-backs to experience the rare beauty of the "true" senses of success.

And, no matter how horribly she wishes herself to be, she still isn't even close to encasing her beautiful, delicious little hands around the enticing, wondrous, tempting diamond. She is, in a manner of speaking, an adventurer in an unfamiliar territory with barrels and barrels of cheetahs and tigers and bobcats and lions prowling nearby, ready, always ready to tear her body to shreds. Taking one step could result in immediate death, so taking no steps at all - in a way exercising no risks - is the cleverest thing to do in and of itself.

It was gold, Hanna told herself, until she tarnished it with her spit when she got angered at her momentary failure; now the diamond, previously of enchanting textures of beautiful gold, is now immersed dirty disapproval and disenchantment and overactive failure - so much so that even touching it could result in humiliation or immediate electrocution.

"Please, people," Hanna lifted her head in panic. She raised her head to the ceiling as if there was God there, hovering above her, ready to enchant her with shots of success's arrow. Why, oh why, Hanna asks herself, does God not have a success arrow to shoot her with? Why is it only Cupid that can shoot the shots? Doesn't God need to have his freedom as well? If God really has a "plan" for us, Hanna asked herself, finally lying her head down, panicked more than ever, then why doesn't he enact it, as opposed to sitting on his fat ass and doing nothing but sitting and laughing cynically at others failures?

"God, please," Hanna muttered, inducing more and more tears as each second of her morbid releases of tearful sobs continued its painful tenure. "why can't you send me back to when I was just a simple innocent infant?"

Hanna remembered seeing pictures of that time, every picture of which she was smiling in being thrown to the back of her mind in some imaginary trashcan, replacing the spotlight with extreme pictures of her terrifying yet rare moments of panic and misery.

One picture stood out to her, though.

It was a picture of when she was a child - probably about five years old, judging from her texture and how she was built at the time. Hung up on her wall was a picture of a little boy, no older than two years old at the very most. His brazen tears crushing his cheeks with suffocation glistened through the picture's atmosphere. It looked as if he was actively and lovingly enjoying his life; as if he was fully and wholeheartedly thankful for everything he received and everything his parents gave. Unfortunately, however, the same could not be said about Hanna. She felt her attention was being consumed by Abel, the name she gave to her little brother, even though her parents gav him the name Chester.

The picture, even after nearly a decade, continues to survive as an instant representation both of a family member she lost, as well as the very ignition of the horrible mistake of which most likely presented the turning point in her life. She stopped and looked at the obstacle then ran it over with her car, not even stopping to think for a second what she had done, or for what reasons she felt she had done so, even if there could have been an alternative to doing so.

For many, many years, until she had been taken to the hospital that one fateful night, she felt that she could never, ever, no matter what let herself forget what torment she had inflicted on her Abel, their Chester, the person who had consumed all of her attention and not even regurgitated any of it so Hanna could savor its presence.

Abel was a good boy - but, like any young child, he cried and cried until he achieved what he strove for. Hanna, however, was just the opposite - she felt that if she didn't ask for things, she would get it, and that not acting like Abel would cause her to win the attention she so tirelessly strove for, but she soon learned how wrong she was when Abel and his biological father, Ron, went on vacation, leaving Tom and Ashley bored for the weekend. During that weekend, Hanna starved, and during that weekend, she always heard Ashley and Tom arguing relentlessly. They weren't arguing about what they usually did before Abel was born: they were arguing about custody agreements; they were arguing about what time they should be allowed to spend with Abel, even about if they should give Hanna way out of sheer boredom and disenchantment.

The majority of the grief came from what happened next - about two days later, when Abel arrived home with bruises all over his abdomen and horrible looking scars on his back, as well as a few knife marks on both of his respective hands. Immediately, as if their retirement or social security cash had been embezzled, they frantically ran to Abel and flipped out at Ron, accusing him of child abuse -even stepping so far as to file a lawsuit against him for negligence and abuse.

Ashley's suspicions were placed on Hanna; however, Tom's suspicion had been placed on Ron. He knew what conspiracies he had ignited before. He knew he was a scary daycare worker that had a knack for child abuse - but when he gave his child to Ron, he hadn't foresight, and he hadn't anticipated what condition Ron would return his child in or he wouldn't have allowed his adopted son's legal guardian to have visitation rights to begin with. His biggest mistake was that he perceived Ron as temporarily safe and reformed. He believed in the power of forgiveness, of committed repentance - similar to how he believed people had the power to change, to reform their actions after they realized the consequences of unrighteous and sinful actions.

Unfortunately, however, Ron hadn't changed. Even though he was the biological father and guardian of Chester, he didn't remember why he had given his child away in the first place: he had abused his child many times before, he had molested every child he ever had - that every child he had ever fostered mysteriously ended up dead a few months later behind his house, their bodies slowly undergoing the process of decomposition in his backyard, under the ground, where he couldn't confront the guilt every time he felt it making its morbid return.

The second night he was watching Chester, Ron felt his anger and disenchantment overflowing, his past actions beginning to catch up to not only catch up to him, but also provide him with the ignition to fuel his temptation to kill another child. He felt his hand clench his biological son's throat; he heard and acknowledged his wife, Nicole, urging him not to do so; he heard the rustling of the leaves outside becoming more and more distinct as Chester's breathing grew more and more indistinct and subverted.

Then, as if a bolt of lightning had flitted by, his wife had scurried over to where he sat and slammed his head against the hardwood floor behind him, slamming some sense into his previously senseless body, the senselessness he previously drowned himself in gushing out of his body with his red blood staining the wooded, now darkened wall behind him.

Right then, while submerged in the pain of his head having been slammed tirelessly, mercilessly, painfully, even relentlessly against the wall he promised never to touch for specific reasons, he vowed never to abuse a child again - and, as an additive, he vowed to confess the truth to Ashley and Tom. Fortunately he was cut short by Tom and Ashley with their disappointment and unfiltered rage before he could ruin and wreck his already terrifyingly painful life. His needle in the haystack - his success he so bewilderingly strove for - was cruelly taken from him by both his mother and father when they brutally abused him every damn day of his life. Ever since then he vowed to afflict what he experienced on others bodies, as a way of compensating for what pain his mother and father, now deceased, inflicted on him. Just like them, he molested children; and just like them, he wasn't sorry for it either. Like father, like son, after all.

Hanna was disappointed when Ron came. She, too, knew Ron's conspiracies; she, too, knew what he had done to her brother, but she weirdly enough wasn't enchanted with its darkness and morbidity. She was glad, you see, because her efforts to finish the deed wouldn't be that difficult. That evening, Ashley and Tom entrusted Hanna with watching her brother. Stupefied, and utterly entranced with the bewilderment following the request, Hanna had talked back, and Ashley, submerged in nothing but rage following what she suspected Hanna had committed, brutally slapped Hanna's face against the ground. Lying against the ground, she vowed revenge - not only against Ashley and Tom, but against her little brother, whom she had nicknamed Abel for this reason, as well.

She told him he was going to kill him one day and he didn't move or flinch - instead, he had laughed and muttered something like "try it, you won't, mama loves me" or something like that. Perhaps that was what Hanna WANTED to hear. Nothing could prevent what she had done, however. Hanna felt herself exploding as her accumulated rage propelled her movement across the room and provided the fuel for her to slam her brother's head against the wall and the courage to tolerate the screams resulting thereof. "Like that?" She had screamed. She pushed him further and further against the wall, only relenting when her clothes had been off of her body and her little brother had been permanently slammed against the ground. There was a little glitter of blood on the ground that made Hanna smile. It was the symbol of her insanity of which she would purvey and immerse herself through for years to come. What followed was the slamming. She felt herself continue to tear his life from him. "There will be no more you. I am God. You are the Devil. I must exterminate you." She had said, feeling like some demonic, purveyed, yet horrifically godly force not to be reckoned with. She felt powerful, not to be bothered or tasseled with. She felt of power, of significance; for once in her life, she felt like SHE had the attention. She cried once, not twice, and a half hour later, after she had finished the deed by continuously choking Abel, she had greeted her parents with purveyed smiles and appreciation. "I love you Mommy and Daddy," she had said; "nothing could separate us." And she had known that was true.

Hanna Marin had felt the extremity of the consequences catching up to her nearly a decade later - after Chester's specter had diminished; after Ron had been put in the slammer for killing his wife; and after Ashley, the main purveyor of the repentance, passed away. She supposes its Tom that caused her to remember this photo album. She supposes his telling her she'll be out of his will if she ever revealed his presence at the hospital was what ignited this guilt-filled revelation. The only thing she can do, however, is suppose, for nobody knows what she did, or at least that's what she thinks.

Hanna turned her head and went to sleep, feeling the extent of her emotions beginning to flood her bodily anxiety and nervousness even in her unconscious dreaming. She saw Ron trying to kill her, succeeding in doing so, just as she had succeeded in achieving the morbid power she had achieved by way of killing her little innocent brother who just simply wanted the extensive attention all others received; she saw Ashley condemning her after she had been notified by God about what she had done to her little brother; and, most of all, she saw Tom, with his expressionless face, motionlessly crying, relentlessly signing forms confirming Hanna's removal out of his will. She saw everything, she knew everything, and she felt everything - but she hadn't saw her captor entering the room.

"Hanna?" The voice had jolted her awake. She had only heard this once before - when her house had been broken into, while being raped by her ex-boyfriend Caleb. She wished, prayed and purveyed that she would permanently forget the exhibitors specter, but she hadn't, for she immediately recognized the voice's identity.

It was Lucas. The same Lucas that had broken in to Hanna's house. Hanna closed her eyes, in disbelief, remembering how her house looked when she exited and what she imagined how her house looked now. She remembered Lucas's red eyes as he toppled a table over, ripped all the envelopes he could find, throwing all and every glass down that he could find. She couldn't remember anything else, however, but hearing him ask "Hanna?" makes her realize one more thing: Lucas is a bad person never to be forgiven. He committed a crime. He broke in and entered a house. he committed a crime and he deserves to be punished.

Hanna quickly swiped her tears away, allowing them to flit off her hospital bed and unto the hospital floor that the various voices in her head had always resided upon ever since she killed her little brother. "Lucas, please; I don't need this." Hanna begged. She didn't need this - she didn't need yet another goddamn person purveying their condemnation of her actions. If she heard one more person complain about her inadequacies or disgrace her because of her morbidness, she might have to go on a rampage, just like Ron did, and she might have to not say sorry, just like Ron did; she might have to be a criminal, just like Lucas was - and, Hanna hopes, still is.

"Just leave." Hanna raised her head to say this, feeling the pain and disharmony course through her veins and her throat. Immediately thereafter Hanna slumped her throat down to its original position of which she was nestled on for the longest time. Ever since, perhaps, Tom had entered the room, Hanna was in this position - perhaps because of his condemnation of her actions.

"No," Lucas persisted. Hanna attempted to raise her head in defiance just enough to see Lucas's fist clenching. In response, out of fright, Hanna allowed the man to talk. Maybe, Hanna justified Lucas's actions, he had fostered more sense than beforehand. Maybe, Hanna wonders, but she doubts it. "I love you, Hanna." Lucas put his hands in his pockets as he voiced it. He couldn't see Hanna smiling in surprise, knowing that the figures beside her agreed and approved of her decision.

"Come on over here, Lucas," Hanna demanded, feeling a bit commanding. Lucas did as asked. Lucas hesitated to speak. Hanna appreciated this. "and get the fuck out of my damn hospital, you prick!" Hanna smiled and kissed Lucas's forehead as she said this. "Got me?" Hanna spoke in front of Lucas's tear struck eyes. "GOT ME?!"

"Y-Yes," Lucas stuttered and walked out of the hospital.

Hanna turned around. "Not the right thing to do, Hanna," the voice of her father, mother and ex boyfriend disapproved.

"Please, guys; don't disapprove of me. I'm me. You're you. You can't control me anymore!" Hanna braved up just enough to overcome her fear of repentance. Lucas had looked on in humiliation and tearful fright and sobs as Hanna had spoke to her inner demons. He cried, wiped them away, then hesitated for a second then walked away, accumulated into a roaring scurry to the elevator.

Now she had begun her journey.


	4. Four

Lucas Gottesman knew being "A" would not be a good reputation but he also knew that watching his family's very life being taken from them as he was utterly helpless to watch would not be a very clever idea either. Unlike Hanna, the woman he coveted with all his wealthy desires, Lucas possessed foresight; and unlike others, he was willing to purvey himself and convey that he was perhaps overly willing to fight against what people always deem "doomed" to occur.

Mona Vaanderwal had threatened to kill every member of his immediate family if he didn't assume the position of "A" and blackmail Aria, Spencer, Hanna and Emily with their secrets. As deranged as she was, she had an objective: she wanted to be loved as much as she wanted freedom.

When Big "A" had threatened her with death if she didn't kill her own mother, Mona broke apart. She didn't wear makeup for three days - the longest she ever went without masking her ugliest facial features. It was almost like she returned to her freshman self: nerdy and helpless, always looking in from the outside, spending every second and every moment of every day striving to be popular and at the very top of the social pyramid. Little did she know then that being popular came with a price - a morbid price only known by those who try to inhibit it; never acknowledged or even investigated by those peering in from the inside.

Perhaps if Mona didn't receive the text from Big "A" that demanded her to employ another member or kill her mother, she might have killed both her mother AND herself just to save herself from the torment of someone else destroying her pride and popularity by brutally killing her. It was almost like this "A" conspiracy to Mona was akin to Bonnie and Clyde. People ganged up against the man or woman that didn't fit in and always ended up killing him or her in frenzied fury; just as they were forced - by the Big Commander - to kill others self esteem and pride and confidence by relentlessly messaging unsuspecting women about their knowledge. In that manner it was like prostitution: you engage in sexual intercourse with someone and then give them something in return; just like when you message the women, you give them depression and fright and get in return the freedom and liberty to live.

"Mona, please," Lucas begged and pleaded. He felt the tears journeying down his cheeks. He felt the worry coursing through his spine. He felt the betrayal he was about to demonstrate foreshadowing itself throughout his body. "I can't continue this act." He sighed and laid his fingers against his temples. Because of his "A" occupation and reputation, he had lost his one true love - and, not to mention, his family. He was kicked out of his house months ago because he was caught texting after his household curfew.

"Why the hell not?" Mona complained. Lucas could hear that she angrily spat in the phone - just as he had heard the hyperventilation, the disbelief, the anger and the fury rippling through Mona's diction like a rock does through a previously undisturbed body of water; but he couldn't speak, for he, too, was primarily speechless, and he, too, felt victimized. "Listen," Mona's voice quickly reduced to whispers. "you have to. I have a family. I have a mother. I have a child, even. If my life is taken from me, how will my son react? For that matter, how will my mother?" Mona sighed. "Lucas, don't be a traitor; besides, you know how "A" is." She added.

Lucas looked out into space. "I know," Lucas cried. He did indeed know how "A" was. He never saw the entity that forsook him so many times, but he knew - oh indeed he knew - how much torment that entity could afflict upon him. The whole reason why he was kicked out of the house in the first place wasn't because he was actually physically caught - it was because his parents had received an anonymous letter informing them that he was purportedly sending text messages after his assigned curfew. The whole reason why he is sitting here debating with a conniving woman is because of "A." "it's just I hate betraying people." Lucas explained. He knew this was wrong. He knew everything he told Mona was wrong. But he couldn't help himself. If he had told Mona everything, uncertainty would certainly arise. He wasn't sure of the validity behind this claim, but he really wasn't willing to test its boundaries either. "You might like blackmail - but I don't." He added. This was true - he didn't like blackmail. That's actually why he wanted out of this "A" business in the first place: he hadn't known how destructive his life could become as a result - but now that he does, he wants out.

"Fine." Mona hung up. Lucas looked at the phone for a second, feeling the wet, hot tears trembling down his cheeks. Faster than a lightning bolt strikes a barren field in the middle of summer, he got a text message - as the vibrations in his pocket so kindly and relentlessly notified him. He took the phone out of his pocket, turned it on, and reached to the notification bar and saw not only that the number was restricted but that the preview begun with: "You're done, Lucas(...)" He sighed for a moment, then pressed the notification. It appeared on his screen. It probably housed an infinite amount of exclamation marks after it. Whomever sent it must have been really really angry. Lucas's eyes directed its attention to the startling words.

He read the diction in a mysterious, yet convincingly insane voice. "You're done, Lucas; you have twenty four hours to live." Lucas panicked and threw the phone down in anger. It almost broke. He picked it up. There was another notification, making him feel as if his every move was being viewed from afar. He swiftly and rather urgently turned around, feeling paranoid, before returning to his stationary standing position to read what the message contained. He read it in the same exact deep voice - except now it only reflected horror. It read: "Return Mona and we'll think about it." Is this some sick game? He asked himself, completely submerged in disbelief at the stationary, yet condescendingly moving text before him.

Before he could even process the nature of the text before him, his line of sight was interrupted by the startling sound of a ringtone. It was "Secret" by the Pierces. He suddenly felt horrified - as if every goose-bump on his body was amplified.

The voice was the same imitation as he had read the text messages with. "Hello?" Lucas asked, in disbelief, shaken up from the texts. "What the fuck-" He begun...

only to be cut off before he could continue. "Lucas," the voice grumbled in a scarily ampified voice. "I am giving you twenty four hours to live." Lucas sighed, feeling the extent of his scornful rage burning inside him, yearning to escape from his body. "You listen to me, you bastard," He continued. His ominous voice grew more and more distinct as the seconds flew by and the shivers flit down Lucas's spine. "if you don't kill Mona," Right then, Lucas felt his world spinning, everything around him becoming amplified. He threw the phone on the floor as his mouth cringed in disbelief. He felt like an alien in an unknown world. He felt anxious. Everything around him was horrifying.

* * *

Hanna felt wretchedly emotional. Had she saw what she thought she saw? Or was it simply an invention brought forth by her newly morbid mind? Had she actually saw her mother walk into her room barely two hours ago and kiss her on her forehead with those familiarly loving lips? Had she really just experienced something only insane people in disbelief experience? Had she really? Had she really just pronounced herself insane?

Tom stood in front of her with tears quietly strolling down his grimly textured face. He looks as if he saw a ghost.

"Please, dad," Hanna felt like crying. Yes, she pronounced herself insane, but she doesn't want her father, Tom, doing the same.

Tom laid his beautiful looking hands on his daughter's ominous looking face. It's texture, it's beauty, it's evanescence rung out to him as he begun to continue breaking down in relentless sobs. "Dad, please, tell me." Hanna begged. She knew, she just knew her father was keeping a secret from her - but unfortunately she hadn't a clue what it was. Tom looked at Hanna with puzzlement embedded within his handsome face. "Please, you can trust me," Hanna promised. "please," She added, the worst of her tears causing the word to be horridly mispronounced.

"Your mother did not die in that drunk driving accident you thought she did." Tom begun to explain. His tears cleared from his face as if on demand by his own mind. "She didn't die at all, actually." Tom smiled then quickly grew serious as Hanna's face grew terrified. "Your mom went missing the day you went to the hospital and she hasn't been seen since." Tom waited for a response but Hanna was too speechless to reply. "The reason why I came here to visit you was to tell you two things: your mom went missing," Tom gulped. He cried a little bit - both happy and sad tears. "and you're being released tonight around 11 PM."

Hanna turned around, barely containing her feelings of anticipation upon being notified about her impending exit from the hospital.

She looked at the clock. It was only five pm, which means she had 6 hours left. Would Ashley visit her again?

* * *

Lucas got in his car and headed to Mona's. He was very undecided on what to do. Should he do as this man instructed him to do? Lucas asked himself as he firmly gripped his steering wheel, his foot determinedly pressed on the gas pedal, the glistening sweat only continuing to trickle down his neck, wetting his hair as each and every second flitted by. His eyes felt weary. His steering wheel felt wet from the intensity of his perspiration. What should he do? Lucas's thoughts begun to naturally amplify itself and make him feel overwhelmed. Lucas felt his thoughts at the utter height of its intensity as he saw Mona's dead body in front of him. He felt his hands trembling at the anxiety of this hallucination. Should he really kill her as his "boss" instructed him to?

If something happened now, Lucas swore, then he'd die; he just knew it, and Mona would be left without him, and so would Hanna. Lucas quickly embraced his chance to return to less frightful thoughts. He'd have to explain to Mona what happened anyway.

He arrived in front of his house after what seemed like an eternity. There were two cars - along with Mona's red caravan - which Lucas simply put off as a mundane occurrence. He strolled to and knocked on the front door. He shouldn't have to knock but he decided he'd actually be nice to Mona since he'd end up killing her anyway. It wasn't Mona that opened the door. It was a chivalrous looking policeman with a clean shaven beard and a balded head. Mona appeared behind him, gently tugging at the guy's arms, urging him to come forward. Lucas saw Mona's bra off as well as her panties. She was bare naked not only in front of Lucas, but also in front of everyone else in the city. He looked highly enraged and in disbelief. He thought those cars were other people from different apartments. Lucas clenched his teeth in disbelief.

"What the hell is this?" Lucas spoke after a moment of disbelieving worry. "What the hell is this horrid smell?" He clenched his teeth in disgust. Was Mona doing illegal drugs? Lucas felt enraged. He felt betrayed - and not only that, he felt dejected. He had to do something about this man, he just had to, but he didn't exactly know what. What should he do? Kill him? No, Lucas told himself; that would simply be too complicated.

Lucas smiled. He had made a decision. He felt evil - and for once he enjoyed it.

* * *

"Caleb, please!" A woman screamed. Her hair was red. Her eyes were hazel. Everything about her was beautiful. She was the highlight of every picture and every atmosphere she stood within. It was everything about her that made Caleb smile. It was everything about her that aroused Caleb during their naughty times.

But now Caleb is starting to feel disenchanted with this sinful relationship. Her parents do not approve of their relationship. They say it's "toxic" because of her prostitution. They say it's deadly for men to be enchanted with women like that. One time they even went as far as to claim it's like getting entangled with the mob.

"I have to leave you!" Caleb screamed back. He was giving her her own poison whether she had liked it or not. She was going to feel what he felt at the worst of times. She was going to cry like he cried. She was going to feel anxious and panicky like he felt anxious and panicky. She was going to FEEL what Caleb had FELT.

The woman's eyes suddenly turned red. "I'll be back for you," she promised before punching a hole in his glass entrance and leaving. Caleb felt shaken up but he forgave himself and laid down for a nap. Tomorrow would be a lot better, he promised; tomorrow would be a lot better. He fell into a deep slumber with only one nightmare about this woman he has fell into disenchantment with.

* * *

Lucas stepped forward with an evil looking expression on his face. "I love you, Mona; I really do." He justified. His anger flew but his determination did not. He knew what he had to do and he knew how he had to do it along with why he had to do it. He turned to the man. "Can you please leave?"

He stuttered, looked at Mona, and then scurried out the back door. Lucas heard the door shut. "What do you want Lucas?" Mona clenched her teeth both in disgust and fury. Lucas knew she'd be outraged when she killed her but he didn't care. He wanted his life given to him and preserved, not destroyed by some foe he didn't even know the identity of.

"I've come to erase all ties between us."

"Couldn't you have done that on the phone?" Mona scoffed. "It's kind of tacky to do it right here and now."

"Why? This is my damn house." Lucas mocked Mona's previous declaration that this was her house. It wasn't her house. The ownership card says it's solely his and that's all there is to it - but he understands: Mona can't seem to face the facts so she's spewing things she's spewed before in hopes Lucas doesn't recall the lack of originality behind it.

"Nothing's yours." Mona declared. She backed herself against the wall to somehow protect herself from what she knew Lucas was probably about to do. She knew he was going to kill her. That's why she prepared herself mentally and closed her eyes. Although she knew it'd be harder to kill her that way, she also knew he was somehow loyal enough to complete the challenge.

Lucas made his way to Mona and while he was doing so Mona felt herself transporting to the good times of her life: when she was nerdy and helpless, begging to become a part of the "cool clan," and then returning to see Lucas's sweaty hands around her. She wrenched herself out of his deadly grip. It only took Lucas one attempt to successfully slam Mona's head against the ground and cause her eyes to flutter and blood to trickle onto the carpeted floor.

He felt his hands trembling from the intensity of the moment but he continued to strangle Mona in spite of the fact that she was indeed dead and the job was indeed completed and he would indeed live unlike Mona. He continued to strangle her as a way of controlling his tears. He continued to strangle her to forget about what he had done. He continued to do everything but think about what he was doing to prevent himself from pondering the rightness of what he had done.

After what seemed like an eternity, however, Lucas stood up from his continual seated position atop Mona and took a very deep breath before letting himself sob his eyes out. He had done something very bad. What he had done was criminal. He should have let himself die instead of taking another human life. One death is always better than two deaths. Why be a bad person? Lucas asked himself. Why be the enemy of others?

Lucas suddenly felt paranoid. Had someone saw him strangling Mona? Will he be in prison within the next seven days? Perhaps it would be an adequate housing opportunity for him, Lucas thought as he continued to lie his head against the ground and cry. Mona's blood was still travelling throughout the carpet but Lucas hadn't a care in the world. He wasn't willing to clean it up just like he wasn't willing at all to clean up what he had done.


	5. Five

**A/N**

**I apologize that I made this chapter short. I wanted to end plots so I can rejuvenate the story's suspense. Please read and review and suggest future plots! **

Caleb drove to the hospital. In the passengers seat was an individual covered in blood. Her body was barely recognizable. "I'm going to do this;" Caleb promised himself. "I'm going to do this."

Her name was Serenity and she was a childhood friend of Caleb's. Something happened to her not too long ago that caused Caleb to feel so overwhelmed that he did something he would soon feel regretful. Her blood was not the product of Caleb's entanglement with her.

_Last night, while driving home, he saw the body of his childhood friend lying on the side of the road, blood pooling out her mouth. Horrified, Caleb attempted to perform CPR, but he inadvertently furthered her friends serene entrance into Heaven._

_As soon as he couldn't save her, Caleb rushed her into his car, hid her under a few of his jackets he keeps stored in the back of his car and sped home. It was only a few miles away, but it felt like an eternity to Caleb. He had only looked back once at Serenity to see if she was breathing and she was not. Her blood was dripping on to his car carpet which Caleb would soon decide to clean._

_Caleb quietly got out of his car because he knew if he was going to do this he should not have a witness on his hands. He walked up to his porch. Everything smelled sinister to him. Everything smelled horrid. Everything smelled like it was about to be thrown away. It smelled so disgusting Caleb scoffed as his wife, Darlene, opened the door. "What's wrong with you?" She asked sarcastically. "Bug up your pants?" She teased._

_"No; I have discovered what you have done." Caleb mustered up all his confidence to say what he had said but it still did not come out as he wanted it to. Darlene looked interestingly at Caleb, intrigued at his accusation. Her smile made her look guilty. Everything did in fact. "The body of Serenity was discovered." Caleb couldn't help but sob while he said this. "It was on the news," Caleb lied. "so you better pack your bags and leave because I know you did it and I know there's no fucking way you can deny it." _

_Her eyes widened at this accusation - as if she was indeed guilty. "Caleb, please!"_

Caleb parked the car at the hospital. He took a deep breath. He was deep in indecision. Should he do the right thing and admit her to the hospital or the wrong thing and evade all help for her? There was no assuming how long Serenity had been dead or even at the side of that road. There was no presuming that a miracle could happen.

Even if she were to be saved, how would Caleb continue their friendship? When he had left their hometown years ago, their companionship was at odds. She had a boyfriend that he didn't approve of and that caused their friendship to crumble. Serenity still hadn't forgiven him for his actions. There's no saying she'd be forgiving after all these years. So what's the use in saving a person that won't be forgiving? Caleb asked himself.

* * *

A doctor came in Hanna's room. This made her hopeful that she would be released. But the expression as the doctor came in and saw Hanna did not make her feel confident at all about her impending release. She looked like she was disappointed. "D-Doctor?" Hanna stuttered. She felt dizzy. Would she be released? Why does the doctor look so horrified? Had she seen Ashley too?

"I'm sorry, Hanna," the doctor spoke after digesting Hanna's appearance. Hanna begun to cry. This news did not look good to her. "but your diagnosis looks very grim." Hanna looked up at the doctor. She's glad she's not meeting death but she's not glad that she has a frightening diagnosis.

"D-Doctor?" Hanna repeated. She stuttered for a moment then regained her composure. "What do you mean?" She asked. Then she let her tears fall out of her eyes. Behind the doctor she saw her mother, Ashley, and father, Tom, embracing each other and smiling darkly at Hanna, as if they were enjoying this revelation.

"You may have schizophrenia." The doctor broke the ice and immediately thereafter Hanna felt her world crumbling before her. She wanted to be released, oh she wanted to be released, but this doctor's revelation that she has schizophrenia petrifies her into stoniness. All she could do is stutter. "I'm sorry, Hanna," the doctor spoke, holding Hanna's hands, her tears, too, streaming down her cheeks. Is this reality? Hanna asked herself. Or is this a dream? Please make it be a dream, Hanna begged; please make it be a dream.

"Don't be sorry!" Hanna screamed. She did this because she felt herself fading away. In reality she was not fading away. She was trembling in her bed and she hadn't even made a verbalization. She had to be physically restrained by the doctor.

* * *

Lucas knew what he had to do. He had to pick up Mona's body and dispose of it somehow. But how should he do so? The smell of illegal drugs still tainted the air. The haziness of the air around Lucas as he dragged Mona into the living room and into the kitchen made him feel momentarily at ease with his life until he looked down at Mona and saw that her eyes were closed and she wasn't just breathless... she was dead.

"Oh, God," Lucas muttered to himself, deep within the panic of his emotions. Had he really done this? Had he really committed murder? Would he go to prison for this? What does the future hold for him? Lucas cried. He could see his tears fall upon the airily deprived body of this familiar woman below him. Not only did he feel panicked but - in spite of the horrible relationship he had with Mona - he also felt oddly remorseful.

Right then he vowed revenge against the real "A," the big "A" that had demanded him to do this. If only he could lay his hands upon that entity's throat, he would be so happy with himself that he would bring Mona back to live. But just as he knows bringing someone back from the dead is but a myth, he also knows he cannot vow revenge against a person he does not even know. He knows he'll have to face the consequences. He knows this but he's not willing to accept it.

Lucas is startled back into reality when his phone rings. He takes it out of his pocket and almost drops it. Lucas cries and places his hands on his temples. He looks back down at Mona before looking at his phone and reading the preview. It said: "Good job, Lucas,(...)" He felt panicked. He felt dissuaded from opening it but he did so anyway.

It read: _"Good job, Lucas, but you didn't do what I wanted you to do."_

What exactly had "A" wanted him to do? He killed Mona. "A" should now be happy - but he wasn't.


	6. Six

After a sizable deliberation period Caleb had made a decision: he would bury Serenity in the middle of the woods and pray that nobody would be suspicious. He knew how dangerous this act of desperation would be - but he also knew allowing Serenity the ability, even the chance to survive this conspicuous near death experience would only be putting himself in more danger... especially since Serenity hadn't yet forgiven Caleb for their little tiff before he left their hometown. It would be like conducting his own imprisonment without actually knowing it. He could go to prison for a long time if he were suspected of murdering Serenity and stowing her on the side of the road - and Darlene, he predicated, would not defend him at all.

* * *

"How could she have schizophrenia?" Tom had asked the doctor. He had been submerged in disbelief just as Hanna was. It was extraordinary to have her released but it was equally as horrifying to learn her sanity may have been compromised while she was in the hospital. Picturing Hanna's body deep within a heavily terrifying nightmare in the middle of the night, screaming like a devilish monster... it just makes Tom want to scream and yelp himself just like Hanna had. Like daughter, like father, Tom deduced.

The doctor looked puzzled - as if she was dumbfounded as well. She had so much education forming her aptitudes but she still hadn't a clue why or how this patient of hers contracted Schizophrenia. It was as if she, too, was exhibiting the same symptoms Tom was: disbelief, horror and deep within discombobulation.

"Well?" Tom wanted to push this doctor against the hardened floor and run away, evading all his feelings of discombobulation following his daughter's recent discovery that she was born a schizophrenic. It would surely explain a lot, Tom told himself. Caleb didn't rape her. It was her feelings of paranoia that had brought on that presumption that she had been forced into an unexpected act of sexual intercourse. Everything can be explained by her Schizophrenia. Everything.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Marin," the doctor finally spoke but not with the verbalization Tom wished to hear. It wasn't something to be joyful about. Because of her Schizophrenia, Hanna may be facing time in a mental institution. Because of this, and because of everything else, he might just have to be in a mental institution as well - because if Hanna has it so must Tom.

"I'm sorry what?" Tom spat after a moment's deliberation. He felt disbelieving and at the very same time infuriated. Everything seemed to spin around him. Hanna was no longer on the hospital bed - she was in a deep hole, submerged so deeply within its abyss that she couldn't get out. Tom was standing above it, his forehead crinkling, tears trickling down his cheeks, hopelessness convincing him not to do anything.

"Your daughter is not going back home." The doctor stepped forward with a frank expression on her face - as if she were awaiting the chance to verbalize what she meant to say. It must be hard to say this to someone looking forward to a life with his daughter, but unfortunately doctors have to deliver bad news all the time. After all, Tom told himself, it's their job. "There's a mental institution called Radley she can be housed at but there's no visitation allowed for her." The doctor spoke with an air of odd vengeance in her voice that only served to further infuriate Tom.

* * *

Moments later Lucas had received another text. It read: "Meet me at Radley."

He suddenly felt sweaty. He can't go there. His reputation, after all, wasn't very good.

When he almost murdered a teacher because he wasn't permitted usage of the restroom, his parents had decided to admit him to a sanitarium to prevent further incidences. The closest one was Radley so his parents sent him there. His parents did not visit him there even though they could because they were always busy with their own lives. Because of his depression, Lucas formed an obsession with cash. He felt whenever he fondled money his life became a haze of soapy plots. For a time his whole life revolved around doing unspeakable things to obtain cash.

One time someone had broken in to his cell and stole all his cash and replaced it with a handwritten note that urged him to bridle his addiction or face going back home. His uncontrollable anger lead him to acts of desperation that he had received no cash in return for. His wish to finally receive a large batch of money was finally granted when a foxy lady with an attractive stature and a lovely body propositioned Lucas with 70 thousand dollars if he were to make her orgasm. Although Lucas had made her climax very loud, he had not received his prize; instead, he was kicked out of the institution after Bianca told the innkeeper that she felt she was raped by a cellmate of hers.

As soon as he got home everything involving sex was taboo. This was when he begun resenting his parents.

* * *

Caleb stood in the middle of the woods. Below him was a hole in the land big enough to fit a human body in. Serenity's features stood out to Caleb and he suddenly remembered how they first met. They were in kindergarten cutting paper together when he accidentally dropped a scissor. When he looked up there Serenity was. She was entering the classroom because she was a new student. It was love at first sight but it wasn't meant to be at all. Romance was never befitting for them. They always argued with each other about the littlest of things and they always kissed and made up moments later as if nothing had really occurred.

In his hand was a shovel. He had spent what seemed like a fortnight digging. He reached down to pick Serenity's body up. Without thinking about the consequences of doing so, he embraced this chance to do something to her he had never been able to do: embrace her and tell her how much he loves her all at the same time without her interrupting him with foolish indecencies.

For a moment he reconsidered his options. Should he really be doing this in the middle of the woods where all could be watching? Isn't this how people get caught? If there was a perfect crime, Caleb told himself, this would have to be it. He didn't murder her - or at least he didn't think he had - but he had sure evaded all chances to save her. Instead of admitting her to the hospital and allowing her the chance to survive, he had done something horrible - something he could be imprisoned over. He loved Serenity, he really did, but he also felt his life was more important, so he stuck with his original decision to bury it and keep the secret.

"Please, Serenity; please forgive me." He begged. He felt sad. He felt depressed. He felt anguished. This, Caleb realized, was the absolute low point of his life - or so he had hoped. Serenity's eyes opened. Caleb knew this was a hallucination but it felt so real irregardless. "Serenity?" He smiled. It was a miracle, he told himself, that Serenity had opened her eyes before the act of misdeed could be completed. His lips formed a gasp when Serenity's eyes closed again. That was his last moment with her, Caleb told himself; and he ruined it.

He lowered the shovel into the ground. He did what he knew he had to to ensure he wasn't burying his best childhood friend alive. He cried while beating the shovel against Serenity's head and watching her skull knock back and forth from the incongruity of the placement.

When he was satisfied with the condition that Serenity was in, Caleb proceeded to wipe his nose to stop the snot from contacting the surface more than it already was. He stuck his shovel in the dirt and watched himself from afar as he threw the dirt in the hole and drove off. It was a long day, Caleb told himself, and he had to forget everything that happened, but he hadn't an idea of how he could do such a terrible thing. Serenity, he told himself, was not easy to just forget.

* * *

Lucas received another text right when he arrived at the Sanitarium which made him flashback to something that had happened to him during his residency at the institution. It read: "Morals are meant to be broken. Now give me Mona's body." Lucas turned around and surely enough someone had broken in to his car while he had been reading that text message. He knew this individual was a man because his textural appearance mimicked that of a male not a female but he hadn't a clue as to the identity of the individual in the backseat. His breath smelt good. His body looked very athletic. Everything about him frightened Lucas. It was as if he was confronting the devil himself.

"Give her to me now," The man spoke in an Arabian accent. This didn't make Lucas anymore frightened than he already was. Confronting the devil is scary and anything else unsurprisingly falls behind. He reached behind him and swiped it back and there was a knife in his hand. He clenched it, ready to attack, as if he took so many lessons that he could be considered a knife wielding expert.

"or pay the price." His voice evolved. It sounded scarier than it already had. Perhaps, Lucas deducted, he could do the same as he had done to defend himself in the institution years ago. He used to punch them in the stomach and they would crumble. It was like knocking a peg down. Enemies were nothing to him in the institution he was at. Except, Bianca that is; she was a pain and a catalyst for his estrangement from his parents.

"No!" Lucas suddenly felt his anger overflowing. It was faster than a bolt of lightning that the knife was wielded and his hand was stabbed. It wasn't that bad, Lucas told himself - could be worse after all. "Is that all?" He taunted, gritting through his teeth the amount of fury he was feeling. "Is that all you can do? One little jab and you're done?"

"I want Mona now!" He screamed, forcing himself in the front seat of the car, tripping the car into sudden ignition.

Lucas looked extremely hesitant. He didn't want to fulfill A's wishes because he didn't want to be someone's dog. He's he and that's all there is to it. "A" can't control him. Unfortunately, this approach didn't work, for his resistance only furthered A's anger.

"You want this car crashed?" He threatened. "Huh?" He urged as his voice grew deeper. He forced his way over to Lucas's side of the car and grabbed the steering wheel. "Teach you not to mess with me," he muttered, his voice deeper than ever. The car stumbled itself into a ditch. Lucas felt himself and A falling down. Although he seemed terrified, A did not, as if he had done this before so many times he was immune to the dangers included.

"A" was gone faster than he had came. Lucas got out of his car. The wound the knife had afflicted on him was worse than he had originally thought. It was gaping with blood in the middle and blood dripping on the ground.

He turned around to go back in his car but it suddenly turned itself upside down. Someone must have pushed it. But who could have? The only people in this ditch are A and Lucas - and A left. He had escaped faster than he had arrived in fact. So who could it be?

Lucas was puzzled. All he wanted to do was run back home - but he couldn't. He was in the middle of nowhere compared to his house. He probably wouldn't see his house again. At least there's a sanitarium up the street in case he needs it. Nobody likes him there, Lucas reminded himself. Too bad, he told himself, because now would be a wonderful time for retribution.

He smiled with a plan in mind. He took out his phone and called someone. "Yes, yes, can I talk to Hanna?"

"Sure." The person had replied. The transceiver went silent for a second. "What the hell do you want?" Hanna complained.

"Are you still in the hospital?" Lucas hoped she was. That way he would be able to visit her and be forgiven by her.

"No, I am not, Lucas; I am in the sanitarium." Hanna proclaimed with an air of depression in her voice. Lucas took a deep breath of relief and wiped the sweat off his forehead. He would be able to visit his friend after all and weasel his way back home. All would be great after all. "Now, if you don't mind," Hanna continued. "I have to get off here. I want to save my call time for someone that really matters." Lucas cried a little bit at her last sentence but he knew Hanna had all the reason to hate him and he knew - or at least hoped - that Hanna's angst would soon go away. Hanna had hung up but Lucas raised the phone to his ear for a few more moments. Afterwards he threw his phone down. This time it was broken, just like everything else in his life was.

He ventured up the road. He arrived at the sanitarium. The lights flickered implanting an air of uncertainty in Lucas's mind. He didn't know it but someone was following him.


	7. Seven

Lucas felt the sweat dripping down his neck as he continued to walk down the hallway. He knew someone was following him but he just couldn't place who was doing so and for what reasons. He had entered the institution in a relatively secret manner, so how could someone know he was here in the first place?

_It was no one,_ Lucas told himself, _just a figment of your imagination._

He turned around and continued to walk forward but he still felt like someone was following him. It felt like someone was about to tear him to shreds. _Was someone really following you?_ Lucas asked himself as he once again turned around.

"What do you want?" Lucas gritted his teeth and muttered. He mustered up all his bravery to swat the air. He was going to destroy this being whether it liked it or not. Nobody was going to intercede with his attempts to rekindle his friendship with Hanna.

Lucas turned around and continued to walk down the hallway. He looked at the door beside him. It was the same room he had been spent time in. Hanna was housed in room 30. This was where most of his experiences took place. The screams of joy coming from him and the females in question couldn't be heard, though - possibly due in part to negligence on the institution's part.

Looking at the sign and reading "Marin, Hanna" makes Lucas break down into tears. Snot drops on to the ground. Lucas wipes away his tears for a moments and looks at the ground. There's a note below his feet. He bends down and retrieves it.

It read: _"It's always better to travel in pairs."_

* * *

Caleb pulled up to his house. In front of his house was a red caravan which he knew belonged to Darlene.

He mumbled in disgust as he took his keys out of the ignition and stepped out the car. He walked to his porch and unlocked the door and stepped in.

Sat on his couch was Darlene, drinking an alcoholic beverage, her face streaked with tears. "I'm sorry, Caleb," she slurred. "but I cannot let this weigh me down anymore." She stumbled over to Caleb and placed her hands on his shoulders.

Caleb closed the door behind him and prepared for the worst.

* * *

Ashley's lips conjoined with Tom's for a moment before she dispersed and begun to cry. "What happened to Hanna?" She asked. Her tears were a catalyst for Tom's.

"She's," Tom paused. He hugged Ashley for a moment. "been admitted to a mental institution."

"Why?" Ashley stuttered for a moment. She was disbelieving. She hadn't a clue of her daughter's condition - but now that she knew, there hadn't to her perpetuated grief.

For a moment Ashley and Tom just stood there hugging ach other, crying rhythmically, before Ashley bit Tom's shoulder as a informal manner of controlling her overwhelming anger.

"What the fuck was that for Ash?" Tom urged. That was his nickname for her - Ash. He gave her this nickname long ago. He usually used the name to defuse her anger - but now it seemed as if it had the opposite effect.

Tom suddenly remembers that Ashley used to exhibit the same symptoms Hanna is now experiencing.

Tom sat for a moment, his mouth agape in shock at his sudden realization.

* * *

"D-Did you kill Serenity?" Caleb took a drink of Darlene's alcohol to prepare him for the revelation. He let a tear escape his eyes. His hands and knees were shaking in anticipation but he controlled himself and allowed Darlene to open her mouth. _After all,_ Caleb told himself, _it must be hard to make a confession like this._ Even though he hates her, he does realize he must give Darlene a chance to speak before he flips out.

Darlene controlled her dizziness. "Yes, I killed her," she slurred. She looked grief stricken herself. _Was it an accident to kill her?_ Caleb asked himself. For once in his life he felt angrier than he had ever felt. He felt infuriated and at the same time depressed. He felt murderous. He felt like a serial killer about to go on a rampage.

"God damn you," Caleb let this omission of anger out. He knew if he were to have any chance of reconnecting with Darlene it would have to sprout of this lone conversation. "I'm reporting you to the police," he jumped at the opportunity to do so as he swiftly ran to the door.

"No, Caleb; please no!" She begged.

Caleb turned around. "Why the hell not?" His eyes were intent on Darlene, which just intensified her tears of distress and sadness. "I'm married to a goddamn murderer! It's either I report you or we get a divorce!"

"Divorce me," Darlene begged, pressing her palm against her chest. "please," She begged. She sobbed even more. It was an intense moment for Caleb during which he decided not to report his wife but divorce her.

"Before I divorce you, though," Caleb begun. He wiped the tears off his face. "I would like to know why you killed Serenity."

* * *

"You gave her this... this... disease, didn't you?" Tom stood there with his mouth agape for a second. He looked back on every moment he spent with his wife and his daughter and tainted it with the imposition of Schizophrenia. It's like poison. It ruins every good memory and replaces them with evil.

"Yes, Tom," Ashley paused, taking a deep breath, allowing her tears to streak her cheeks.

"I want you the hell out of my house." He demanded. He pointed his finger to the front door. This only intensified his demand for Ashley to leave. "Now." His forehead crinkled in disgust, Tom was not at all happy.

Before she left, though, Ashley turned around with tears in her eyes and on her cheeks and showed Tom a gaping wound on her arm.

"What the hell is that?" Tom asked. He wanted to know what that was but he didn't want it to require Ashley to stand in his house for any moment longer. He couldn't stand to see Ashley's face. Not after what had been revealed to him.

"I cut myself." Ashley revealed. "I cut my damn self!" She repeated, ingraining it in Tom's mind before leaving and stepping off the porch. Tom approached the door and watched his wife leave. Once she left, Tom shut the door in anger.

* * *

"She threatened to kill me." Darlene revealed.

"Why? Why'd she threaten to kill you? How do you know her?" Caleb questioned. He felt like an interrogation conductor hot on a suspect's trail. He told himself to take deep breaths and patiently await Darlene's answer.

Darlene took a deep breath. Her breath smelt of alcohol and Caleb's breath equally reeked of the same exact substance. That was actually why they were talking to each other on such a leveled manner.

"Serenity and I," Darlene paused. She held Caleb's hand. She allowed herself to express herself. "didn't get along."

"But that's no reason to take her damn life!" Caleb spat. He tried to control his anger but he just couldn't. _If this is all Darlene has to defend her actions with,_ Caleb told himself_, then it's time to leave her_. _After all_, he deduced, _women like this aren't worth the trouble or the wait._

"Just let me finish!" Darlene flipped. She placed her hands on her scalp and scratched them for a moment. Caleb was shaking right now. He knew Darlene had a secret. He wanted to dig down to it but he couldn't stand the filthy dirt. He couldn't stand how Darlene and Serenity didn't get along. He just couldn't stand it. This is what stirred his fury.

Caleb's phone vibrated in his pocket but he ignored the call. He wanted to hear Darlene out. _If it wasn't major,_ Caleb told himself, _perhaps he can withstand her mistakes and thus rekindle their marriage - but if it's major,_ Caleb added, _and if it's something criminal,_ _he is morally and legally obligated to report her actions to the police department and let justice do its course._ Serenity was a childhood friend who's life did not deserve to be taken.

"I met her one day when taking a long walk." Darlene explained. "She approached me with a baseball bat in hand and a liquor bottle in the other and told me if I didn't give her money she'd kill me."

"This is not like her." Caleb frowned in disbelief, his continued fury cultivated his sobs. "You must have seen someone else."

"No," she paused. "I'm sure it's her." Darlene continued. "She told me her name was Serenity," Darlene continued to hold Caleb's stony hand. "and when I didn't give her the money," Darlene continued. "she beat me with the baseball bat," Darlene revealed. "and made sure I had a large bruise on my head." She bent down and showed Caleb the affliction. It blended in with her red hair but it was horribly obvious that she had been attacked. Weirdly enough, Caleb observed, not only was there one bruise, but there was also another one as well. She must have been attacked twice, Caleb deduced.

"W-Were you attacked twice?" Caleb spoke his mind. He couldn't help it. He wanted to get the truth. Right now he felt confused. This woman Darlene was speaking about wasn't the woman Serenity was when Caleb last left her. People do change though.

"Yes," Darlene continued her trend of telling secrets. "but let's politely shift this conversation to you."

"What about me?" Caleb felt nervous. What exactly did Darlene want to talk about? Does she perhaps know something she shouldn't know?

"You know me," Darlene teased. She smiled evilly. It was as if she knew something. Caleb stepped back a moment. He wanted to leave. He really did want to leave this time. But he also knew Darlene was in a dark place now and that she needs support now more than ever.

Darlene got up. She felt dizzy and Caleb knew it. She walked drunkenly to Caleb. "I know what you did," she slurred, touching Caleb's chin. "and I am going to tell." She smiled.

Caleb grabbed his keys on the end table and ran out of the house faster than he came in.

* * *

"I'm so sorry you have to spend time in here," Lucas placed his hand on Hanna's. They smiled at each other. "but it might serve to help you grapple with your emotions better." Lucas smiled hopefully.

"No," Hanna leaned in to Lucas. She was whispering. "they are not helping me," she squinted her eyes. "and you aren't helping any either." She leaned back and smiled. "I need not tell you any more."

"Wait!" Lucas demanded. "Please!" He saw Hanna's disapproval and unwillingness to continue the conversation but he wanted to talk to her for just a little while longer. After all it had been long ago that they had spoken to each other.

"What?" Hanna screeched.

Lucas smiled. She had given him a chance and that makes him so happy that he lets his emotions pour. "I love you, Hanna; I love you with all my heart." He declared.

"Is that all?"

"No, Hanna, that is not all." Lucas answered. "You don't realize that I love you with all my heart."

"Well you don't realize that I haven't forgiven you." Hanna clenched her teeth in anger. Apparently she wasn't over the break in just yet. Lucas had hoped she was over it or at least forgot it ever happened but his wish was not granted. He knew nobody liked him or appreciated his actions but it does tend to hit close to home when someone else reveals their distastes for him. It's like adding salt to the already gaping wound. Lucas lowered his head in sadness. He cried his eyes out and let himself do so. He was determined not to allow himself to suppress his emotions any longer. He's homeless, his car's destroyed and nobody likes him. That's all the reason to cry.

"Move on," Lucas demanded. He clenched his teeth in about as much fury as Hanna's were. He was angrier than she was. He had more reason to be infuriated. She was institutionalized. He wasn't. There was no place for him to be institutionalized. Nobody at Radley liked him. He wouldn't be welcomed back in such a sanitarium where he ignited such chaos in.

"I can't." Hanna explained. "I just can't."

"Why not? I've shown you many reasons to forgive me."

"The very fact you come here and beg my forgiveness shows me you've done something else unforgivable." She explained. She leaned in to Lucas. She wasn't kissing or embracing him. She wasn't even showing any love at all. After all she didn't love him. She hadn't forgiven him. She hadn't planned on forgiving him either.

"Your secrets are public, Lucas;" Hanna made Lucas realize what A had done to him. A broke in his car to coerce Lucas into visiting the sanitarium. "everyone knows that your car fell in a ditch, everyone knows that you killed two people." Hanna couldn't control her tears of fury. "Everyone knows." She repeated.

"You don't know anything." Lucas slammed his hand against the table. "There is so many things that I went through that you don't know a damn thing about!" Lucas's tears were replaced with fury. He was so angry and so infuriated that he was practically shaking. He felt the same ferocity he experienced while killing Mona.

"I was just saying!" Hanna defended.

"I know what you were saying!" Lucas shouted. "You don't know a DAMN thing. What you see on the news is only half of the real story. What you hear from me is the other half!"

"Then tell me." Hanna demanded. Her eyes were squinted again. "Tell me what makes you such a goddamn saint."

"No," Lucas refused. "I'm not telling you a damn thing." He slammed his hand against the table for emphasis. He got up from the table and exited the door.

There on the floor was another note. Shaking in fury, Lucas picked it up.

It read: _"You're almost there." _

* * *

**Author's Note**

**Thank you so much for reading my story! I really appreciate all my fans! **

**This is the mid season finale. **

**Stay tuned in a week for the next chapter! **


	8. Eight

Tom leaned against the door. He felt guilty for being so crude to Ashley but he felt vengeful for what Ashley had given Hanna. There was no subverting what torment lie ahead for their relationship. _You know, _Tom took a deep breath. _I actually feel bad for Ashley. _He told himself as he took his phone out and dialed Ashley's number. Her contact name was "Ash." That's his nickname for her through thick and through thin. "If you're calling to be mean," Ashley begun on the other side of the phone.

"Ashley," Tom interrupted, wiping the tears off his eyes, taking a deep breath and allowing himself to continue his testimonial. "I'm sorry I was so mean to you." He knew this wasn't the greatest way to actually apologize but he also knew that he couldn't apologize any more explicitly before he, too, broke down in to tears.

"No, Tom," Ashley refused, and Tom could sense the odd sound of disapproval emanating from her mouth on the other end of the transceiver. "I'm sorry," she insisted, and Tom smiled. He knew his apology sunk in and he knew he felt grateful but he also felt as if something essential was missing. "I'm sorry for being so mean to you."

"Please..." Tom paused. He felt the tears rolling down his cheeks. "Just accept my apology." He gulped. "You're my everything." He added. "Please... know that."

Both knew how horrible they felt about the conflict they had just endured but none of them knew how to rekindle their relationship. Be it through thick or through thin, Tom and Ashley had always swam through their troubles and came out richer than they were before - but now that these obstacles have enriched their strength, their endurance had died.

"I have something to attend to." Ashley excused herself and hung up. Tom's smile died when he begun wondering why Ashley wanted her privacy so exceedingly. Had she wanted privacy to inflict harm upon herself - or did she want it for other reasons?

* * *

"I can't stand my life anymore..." Ashley told herself as she leaned against a blank wall. Her tears stung the surface of her streaked cheeks.

She felt guilty, she felt vengeful - and most of all she felt depressed. She had failed everybody around her - but most of all she had failed herself. She promised herself she'd succeed in life without allowing depression or anxiety to overtake her. But now that she's seen the life outside of the cage, she can't seem to allow herself to achieve her desires.

Ashley puddled her face in her hands and felt the tears sting. They felt painful. It felt like a curse brought back to life after years of continual dismemberment. "I'm no longer in control of my goddamn life!" Ashley screamed. This was the worst she had experienced since she had committed murder years and years ago. _If your mother were to see you like this, _Ashley told herself. _she'd probably kill you herself. _

"I'm dying, God;" Ashley sobbed. "I'm dying."

* * *

Caleb swerved in the middle of the highway, his teeth gritting in anger and drove back home. _You know what, _he told himself. _I don't have to tolerate this. _He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. _She going to reap what she sows, _he assured himself. _She's going to get payback. _

A little while later, Caleb pulled up to his house, took his keys out of the ignition and stormed up the porch stairs. He practically shoved the correct key in to the door but it would not unlock. _That son of a bitch, _he grunted to himself. He felt the tears of fury going down his red hot cheeks. He banged his hands against the door. He still felt drunk... but not as drunk as he felt when he got into his car and drove off.

Darlene walked up to the door with a smug look on her face and opened it.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing changing the goddamn key?" Caleb raised the key up to her face. His face was red. Darlene backed against a wall. She huffed and turned around. He grunted drunkenly as he slammed Darlene against the wall behind her. "We're still married," he chuckled. "and you can't do a GODDAMN thing about it!"

"I thought you didn't love me," Darlene wrenched from Caleb's grip. "I thought you hated my damn guts," She gritted her teeth. She was like a caged animal that was just released from its enclosed habitat. "so I completed the job by making sure you couldn't come running back to me." She was still drunk; you could hear it in her voice as she continued to slur her speech involuntarily.

"You demented bitch," Caleb grunted as he punched Darlene in the stomach and watched contentedly as she slumped against the ground, pressing her right hand against her stomach as if there was something about to fall out that she didn't want anybody to see. Her eyes reeked of vengeance but Caleb's showed less remorse than hers and ultimately more determination.

"Get... out." Darlene commanded between huffs and puffs of pain. "Just... Please..." She cried. "Get out." She begged as she lied against the ground.

"No!" Caleb yelled. He didn't feel furious. He felt content but he didn't want to leave so this made him feel a little mad. But he knew it was a waste to feel furious. _After all, _Caleb told himself. An evil smile shone itself on his lips. Darlene's eyes looked curious and at the same time frightened. She was scared of what Caleb might do to her now that he hit his top ferocity meter. _you now have full control over her._

"Get up!" Caleb demanded. Darlene showed her obedience by doing as asked. "Now follow me!" Caleb commanded. He got up and walked to the kitchen and got a piece of paper out. He wrote down a few choice words on it. He folded the paper and handed it to Darlene.

"This is not your damn house!" Darlene protested. _Oh, so she read the letter, _Caleb smiled to himself. _now it's time for some manipulation. _

"Do as I say," Caleb grabbed Darlene's wrist in fury. "and you won't have to leave." Darlene sighed a breath of relief, but Caleb continued to grab Darlene's wrist. He twisted it in anger. "but make one goddamn mistake," Darlene rolled her eyes. Caleb pushed Darlene against the ground and leaned down to caress her intricate hair, "and you'll be seeing the inside of a jail cell woman."

* * *

Tom looked at a photo album of the memories he and his family had been a participant in. Ashley and Tom looked infallible - until a few pages over when it appeared they had experienced a financial letdown. Their clothes were torn, unwashed, and sometimes they hadn't any clothes on their backs. They looked starved and bemused. During this period of their lives, their faces did not look content, but a few pages over and they looked happier than ever with a baby girl in their hands. Their clothes and appearance looked renewed.

_Why can't it be like it used to be? _Tom asked himself as he felt the stinging tears rolling down his cheeks. He felt like a crybaby - but he had also felt incredibly remorseful for how rude he had been to Ashley. Everything he had been mad about now looks like a tiny ant compared to the huge skyscraper that is now his overwhelming guilt.

_Don't worry. _Tom tried to urge himself not to worry about things that are beyond his control, but the recurrent image of Ashley's gaping wound rippling through his mind. _She's a strong woman, she knows you love her. _He told himself but the tears only kept strolling down his streaked cheeks.

_Why'd you have to do this to her? _Tom couldn't help but to put himself down. _Schizophrenia is beyond an individual's control, _he told himself, but he still couldn't convince himself that he had no part in Ashley's episodes of self affliction. He still couldn't make himself believe that Ashley forgave him for how rude he was to her. If it were for anything else other than her gaping wound, he'd still be arguing with her, but seeing that wound is like experiencing a wake up call.

Tom threw the photo down in anger. He let his anger out by screaming endlessly at the ceiling above him. He got up and stomped his photo album until he could practically see the devil in front of him congratulating him for his vengeful actions. He got the album up, forced it open and ripped every page to pieces. _Perhaps a rash decision, _he told himself. _but you need to stop dwelling and move the fuck on. _

As he threw the album against the ground in victory, his phone rung. He took it out. It was Ashley. "Ashley, please," he took a deep breath. He cried silently and told himself to stop crying but he just couldn't; for the feelings of remorse, depression and fury were too intensified for any one of them to be halted. "I don't want to talk now." He surrendered his emotions to his mind. _Not a good idea, _he warned himself_,_ _not a good idea.__  
_

"Please..." Ashley begged. It sounded as if she, too, was crying. "I need you." She managed to voice before allowing emotions to burst. Tom did the same. They were crying simultaneously. It was a replay of their wedding. "Everything..." She cried. Metal dropped. Tom's eyes widened. _Was that a knife?_ He asked himself.

"A-Ash?" Tom asked. He raised his hand in caution. "A-Are you okay?" He backed himself against a wall and knelt down to prepare himself for the answer.

"N-No," Ashley confessed. She broke in to tears. "I-I-I'm not." She stuttered. _All your fault, _he told himself. _all your goddamn fault. _

"Please, Ashley," Tom begged. He wanted to save Ashley from making any rash decisions. He knew that metal sound was from a knife. "before you make any irrational decisions," Tom took a deep breath and expelled his tears once more before forbidding them from wrecking his emotions any longer. He gulped. He disallowed himself from pouring his emotions. "please let me visit you and talk it out."

"No!" Ashley's voice was oddly defensive. Tom cried. _Why not? _He asked himself. _What's she so afraid of? _He asked himself. Once again he jumped to conclusions and blamed himself. _It's all my goddamn fault. _

"Ashley Marin, you are my goddamn wife," Tom commanded. He didn't know where his fury came from considering he was holding no fury against her. "and I will not let you die!"

"What do you care?" Ashley scoffed. Tom cried. He now felt furious. Nobody underestimates his love and appreciation for his wife - not even his own wife. "You made sure you told me how much you hated me, so what do you care if I take my own life?" She flipped out. "Exactly;" she sobbed. "you don't care, you couldn't give a shit less."

"No, no, no;" Tom urged. "Ashley, please," Tom urged once again. He heard the knife being picked up. "think this through. You are the love of my life."

"Your love is meaningless," Ashley sobbed. The knife dropped. The phone dropped. He heard a body slump against the ground.

"Ashley," Tom yelled. "Ashley," Tom repeated. "Ashley!" Tom broke down in to tears. He threw the phone against the ground angrily. "Goddamn it!" He shrieked. He picked the trampled photo album up and threw it all the way across the room, his fury fueling his strength. He slumped against the wall. His phone rung even though he thought he had broken it. "Hello?" He grunted. It was Hanna. "Please. I'm not talking to you. Something has happened to Ashley." _  
_

"Dad, please," she begged. "W-What?" Hanna asked. She must have just realized the gravity and meaning of what Tom said. "What happened to mom?"

"She committed suicide," Tom revealed. The phone went blank. "Hanna?" Tom urged. "Hanna?!" Tom repeated. "Hanna, please answer me right now!" Tom could hear something being slammed against the wall. "Hanna..." Tom's voice grew weak. He threw the phone down in anger.


	9. Nine

_You can't do this. _Lucas urged himself. He felt breathless. He felt terrified. A group of teenagers walked by. Lucas quickly backed himself against a wall. He'd seen a lot of gang members in the sanitarium and he did not want to give them reason to rival him. _After all, you don't want to end up in a body bag, _he reminded himself as he looked around him to see if anybody was nearby.

He walked to the front of the store. He grinned evilly. He innocently sauntered up to the door and opened it. The bell rung. "How may I help you?" asked the cashier in a cheerful tone. Lucas ran to the desk and grabbed his wrist. "U-Um, sir;" the cashier urged nervously. "I'm going to have to ask you to step back." He withdrew his wrist from Lucas's clutch. _He obviously knows self defense, _Lucas urged himself to quit what he was doing right now before he got himself in to deep trouble, _so the best thing to do would be to leave. _

"No." he told himself. "I am not leaving until the job is done." He gritted his teeth in determination. He looked to the right of him. He picked a random object up and ran to the cashier, who was securing his finances, and wielded the weapon as best he could. "Do as I say," he gritted his teeth once again. "and we won't have a single problem," he slammed the object against the counter and stomped his foot threateningly. It had been a long time since he last robbed a store but he knows one requirement is to ensure that the receiver of the violence feels threatened. "but make one slip up," his tongue slithered at the last word. "and you're dead meat." He slammed the weapon once more against the counter for emphases.

"Now back the hell away," He demanded. "and let me the fuck through." The cashier was oddly obedient even though Lucas knew he was not threatening at all. He opened the cash register after a moment's hesitation and grabbed as much money as he could and shoved all he could in his pockets and left. He heard a phone being put back on the hook and tried to run but he couldn't, for his guilt was beginning to overpower him with its strength and manipulation. _Please no, _he pleaded. He closed his eyes and tried to transport himself to a good time in his life.

"You are under arrest for armed robbery," he heard between hallucinations of happiness and tranquility as a metal object enclosed his wrists behind his back. "you have the right to remain silent," he heard before his world fell into a world of nothingness and failure.

* * *

Tom picked up his phone and redialed Hanna's number. It rung a few times then picked up. "Hello?" an answer came through the transceiver which was not Hanna's voice. _What the hell? _Tom asked himself. _What happened to Hanna? _He gritted his teeth in anger. There was a knock on his door. He hung up the phone and practically scurried to answer it. Any interruption is better than no interruption.

It was Hanna. "Greetings," she smiled. "I am here to see Tom?" Her hair looked disheveled. Her eyes looked apologetic and forgiving. It was as if she was a changed woman. _People don't just change overnight. _Tom reminded himself._ It takes a long time to recuperate from mental illnesses. _

"Um..." Tom stalled. He was speechless. It was her beauty and dishevelment that had cast a spell on him. "I've missed you so much, Hanna," He smiled. He was manipulated by Hanna's beauty and molded in to an accepting man. "I've missed you so much," he repeated and took a deep breath, allowing the tears to once again spill out of his tear ducts. He allowed himself to cry because he knew Hanna would understand.

"I'm a changed woman." Hanna smiled. Tom knew her smile wasn't infallible - that she was obviously hiding something - but he did not want to touch on the issue right this second. _After all, _Tom told himself, _you do need someone to console you. _He took a deep breath and temporarily halted the tears. He withdrew his embrace from Hanna and looked at her eyes. They were muddled with tears. "I'm so sorry, Dad," she chuckled. "I just hate reunions." _  
_

"Me, too, honey," Tom chuckled. He felt the tears of joy rippling down his cheeks as he tightened his embrace around his daughter. Their connection was inseparable by nature. All the joyful moments in that family album he ripped up could never be recovered but he could always make new moments to treasure. He could construct another photo album. Anything without the pain of seeing Ashley would be a cure to his depression.

"So," Hanna withdrew her gaze. "I heard."

* * *

"Caleb," Darlene's voice slurred. "please," she took a deep breath and wept a little for emotional effect. "I cannot be trapped; I am not a caged animal." Darlene coyly smiled.

He sighed. "You are my animal and you are to do as I say!" Caleb screamed at the top of his lungs. He knew he wasn't strong but he also knew Darlene was at a distinct disadvantage in this particular battle.

"Or what?" She challenged and rolled her eyes. "You gonna divorce me?" She scoffed and wrinkled her forehead and cleared her tears as if they did not exist. "Go ahead and I'll make sure that'll be your last day."

Caleb grabbed Darlene by the wrist and held it up to his chest. Her eyes looked pleading but Caleb was awarding no respite. "I'll tell the goddamn police." Her mouth reeked of liquor. Caleb wiped his nose and withdrew his grasp. "One word out of your mouth and I'll kill you," Caleb's lips formed a smile as he spoke this. "and leave you on the side of the fucking road just like you did Serenity."

Darlene looked taken aback. "I'm afraid you don't know the whole story, Caleb,"

***END OF PART ONE***


	10. Ten

Darlene begun to sob. "My life has been a mess ever since Serenity entered my life." She took a deep breath. "I felt obligated to support her." Her expression mimicked that of bemusement and restlessness.

It was if he was witnessing his own death sentence. He wasn't being put out of his misery.

She was shivering. He could see the look of remorse in her eyes.

"Please be honest with me," Caleb held his wife's hands and practically begged for her integrity. "It really could change my life."

"Do you promise me you won't blame yourself for what I may tell you?" Darlene asked, and Caleb immediately wondered what he would hypothetically be blaming himself about. _If this is some sick game that Darlene made up, _he told himself, _then she needs to quit the act._

"Yes," Caleb took a deep breath. "I promise." She withdrew her gaze and took a momentary swig of liquor to prepare herself.

* * *

Hanna and Tom stood gazing at each other relentlessly with such passion that the room could burst any moment from the intensity.

"With all this intensity, I'd think we hadn't seen each other for years," Tom broke the silence with none other than sarcasm.

He loved his daughter. Not even Schizophrenia could erase that fact. Ashley may feel slightly ashamed, but Tom sure doesn't. He regrets ever misleading authorities to believe Ashley was dead. "Your mom loved you." Tom reminded Hanna but he couldn't dwell on this fact because he knew it'd destroy the rare moment he is sharing with his daughter. "Always know that," he added as he ran his fingers through Hanna's hair.

Hanna embraced her father and rocked back and forth, sobbing to no end and remembering all the times she had said mean things that she didn't mean. It was an undeniably graceful moment during which father and daughter reconvened and realized their undying love for each other.

It was faster than it arrived that the moment ended. Hanna withdrew her embrace. She wiped her tears.

* * *

"Serenity was not a very good person." Darlene's slurred speech echoed throughout the room but it was still infused with more confidence than she had ever exhibited before.

Everything he had ever experienced during his childhood was a lie now that he knew this. All the rejection Serenity had given him wasn't within reason. It was as if her death was a blessing in disguise. He felt relieved and comforted now that he would never have to wonder if Serenity was alive.

His wife's drunken steps were illusory to his confidence. He felt disgraced by his own memories. Everything he had ever experienced during his childhood is a lie and everything he didn't experience was what could have happened. He could have never made friends with Serenity and lead a better life without the burden of constantly being punished by his own souvenir of unhappiness.

* * *

"Were you released from the institution?" Tom caressed Hanna's beautiful hair as he asked this. Hanna looked up at him guiltily and for a sliver of a moment his mouth was agape and he was seriously contemplating turning his own daughter in to the authorities. But he also knew this moment he spent with his daughter would never happen again if he did do.

"Don't worry," Hanna got up and wiped her tears away. "I'm leaving." Hanna walked slowly to the door while Tom stood there motionless and helplessly expressionless.

"No." Tom paused to re-experience all the good memories he had spent with his family. "You're not," Tom asserted as he walked over to Hanna and hugged her and virulently spread his depression and uncertainty.

Hanna recoiled from her own father and gave him the dirtiest look possible and opened the door. "Please," Tom begged, laying his hand on his daughter's shoulder, "I can't say goodbye to another person."

She turned around, her face smeared with tears. "Lucas visited me yesterday." Hanna spat.

"No," Tom was in disbelief. He begun stuttering without meaning. It was because of his daughter's institutionalization and his wife's virulence that his life spiraled out of control in the first place.

_My relationship with my daughter is already temperamental at best, so why not destroy it for good? _It took very little manipulation for him to notice his relationship with his daughter was over and it was all his fault. _Perhaps the only reason Hanna came back was to make sure that I know our relationship is over. _

"Just leave." Tom urged. His lip was struggling with the pressure to sob. Hanna opened her mouth to say something but Tom stopped her by placing his finger on her lip. "Shut up and leave," he murmured. She did as instructed.


	11. Eleven

**A/N**

**I apologize for the inconvenience, but I am going to end this series, so if you want to know how it all ends, then please tune in; otherwise, please click the back button on your browser and do not bother. **

* * *

Pretty Little Liars

"A" and Hanna

Series Finale

By: JacobB1996

As his eyes gave way to the tears, Tom pressed his now sweaty hands against the glassy surface of the front door, and watched as his only daughter was escorted into the black and white police car. Once she was driven away, to a place where her mind could be at rest, Tom sullenly walked to the kitchen, buckets of tears streaming down his rosy cheeks.

He looked up at the sky, hands pressed together, as he searched for a peaceful way to end his life. All he wanted was to be with Ashley. He didn't care where he was, he didn't care where she was, but all he wanted was to be with her. Hanna's presence really didn't matter to him. In fact, he could do without her, if only it were for Ashley.

His eyes ventured to the silverware cabinet. Would it deliver finality to his mind to do the same as Ashley had done? Something or someone above him told him to walk to the kitchenware cabinet. He didn't know what or who had told him to do this but he had assumed it was Ashley because a moment later he had a butcher knife in hand. It was the same one Ashley used to cut tomatoes as a newlywed.

Sullenly Tom hunched himself down in front of the cabinet and begun to silently press the butcher knife against his veined hand. It was as if peace and finality and posterity had finally been delivered to him. Ashley stood at the entrance to heaven, arms outstretched. "May I enter?" Tom asked. Here he would feel peace. "Please?" He put on a slightly fake smile.

"Yes, you may," Ashley opened the doors to heaven and watched from afar as her ex husband had finally found his peace.


	12. Twelve

**A/N**

**I know I said the series was done with but overnight I came up with a different idea and a different way to actually end the series. (Hint: Tom's gone, but Darlene and Caleb are a different story.)**

**Additionally, I may make a sequel to this franchise of "A and Hanna." I do not know, but since I have over 500 fans with this franchise, I may continue this franchise, in a plea for even more fans.**

* * *

Pretty Little Liars

A and Hanna

Final Series Finale

By: JacobB1996

Darlene's eyeballs were streaked with transparent tears and for a moment Caleb felt more in love with her than he had ever felt before. It was almost as if they were newlyweds, smiling at the incoming sunset, blissfully naive. Their smiles were intricate, and so were their love, but reality always had a way of piercing their aspirations.

"If you tell me all of what happened, then there's really nothing I can do to prosecute you." This was very painful for Caleb to say, but he knew if Darlene hadn't told him the whole truth, and if she was indeed hiding something, he would have to report it.

Darlene looked up at Caleb and the tears were horribly transparent. "I can't!" She flipped out and picked up a vase from beside her and threw it angrily and ferociously across the musky room. Right now Caleb had no choice but to back away, to back against the wall, and proceed to shake frantically, for this woman in front of him - this woman whom he loves - may have committed a crime.

She looked shocked, almost as if she herself had not expected to do that. Caleb felt remorseful for his interrogatory measures but he knew the truth had to come out of her with every inch of misery he had caused her. Serenity would have wanted him to do this. She was a bad person, he had no doubt in his mind about this, but she was also one of his old friends, and honoring her memory would be her only wish. And you can't honor someone's death without knowing how him or her died.

"Fine." Darlene took a deep breath. Caleb did as well, for he knew nothing of what she was about to tell him. "If I tell you, if I tell you why she died, or how she died, do you promise to keep it to yourself and nobody else?"

Caleb shook his head. "Well?!" She raised her voice, and Caleb's eyes instinctively widened at her persistence. "Do you?!"

"Y-Yes," Caleb's skin crawled as he made this promise.

"She walked up to me, and did something very shameful to me." Darlene's eyes trailed to the floor, and the tears dropped to the carpeted surface, and for a moment he saw the sweet, innocent girl he had met for the first time. "Her eyes were widened. It looked as if she was... was..." Darlene took another deep breath, and exhaled. "High on something. She raised her fist to my mouth and punched me to the ground."

Caleb's eyes were now fully widened. "And what did she do after that?" He felt as if he were watching an accident in motion. It was as if Darlene was reliving it too because she begun to hurl and throw vomit up on the soft, carpet laden floor.

"She took my clothes off and shoved them in my mouth and watched in glee as I was in pain." Darlene admitted, as if this were horribly painful for her to confess and give cadence to.

Caleb now not only saw a sweet innocent girl in front of him - he also saw a pained, traumatized girl, too.

And for a moment Caleb silently cursed the dead body of Serenity. He promised never to visit her again. He promised never to think of her again. He promised always to love and to cherish Darlene and never to put her down again. It seemed even with alcohol in her system she was still a woman under the influence of PTSD.

"Then when I tried to get away, she once again threw me against the ground. She smiled, and smiled, and smiled as she pressed her now naked body against me." Darlene was now fully sobbing, her speech now fully incoherent.

"Okay. I will keep this to myself. Nobody else will know." Caleb promised.

* * *

Outside, in front of Caleb's house, a bandaged body can be seen. This body puts a phone to her ear. "Hello? I would like to report a murder."


End file.
